archive of dreams

there is you
archive of dreams
pen to paper, blue lines filled in script
murals of words from 1992
beginning, streaming
7am till end of day
you must have woke at three
or never slept

mechanics of midsummer
playing out in your head
behind and before
your eyes
indeed
you haven't slept

you're young yet
it doesn't show in your skin
in your hair, not felt in your hips

in 1992
what makes us old
before our time
hasn't been streamlined
scanned, publicized

only script tucked away
paper files, kept hidden
reserved for exploration
later
archived dreams,
from the road:

a rose for your name
Tamika's shack
backbone spine
van ride
where secrets are spilled
broken hearts mended;
choice is always yours
even as you jump from its doors.