and that was the dream

July 14, 2011

and that was the dream

we are holding hands, you and I, in a paprika landscape. the houses here are stacked tidily, like Duplo castles with paper flags. the people walking around have mechanical joints and painted smiles.

nearby, you see an alleyway. it is narrow and it smells of lilacs. “let’s go,” you whisper, pulling my hand. my fingers are sliding out of your grip as you start running forward. and i am watching your hair tangling in the wind and it is like i, too, am made of Duplo, with my legs that slowly squeak forwards.

a balloon and a bouquet of flowers. rising past the funny skyscrapers and their primary colours, like an illustration in a children’s book. we are holding hands and the helium is pulling us into the gold of the sky. our hair is sparks from a campfire.

your fingernails are chipped and dirty, but so are mine, and the flowers smell like earth, but we are in the sky. our legs have stretched

s t r e t c h e d

and it is like walking on stilts, but no, it is our joints that can move freely again. we jump from building to building, grabbing handfuls of cloud to hold onto.

looks like rain. (your hair goes curly in the rain and)

the flowers stems have wilted in our hands, the yellow petals are starting to fall.

he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not

he loves me.

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balloon sky flying children's story fairytale dream duplo flowers buildings love