You say baby
dreams aren’t made like this
after licking your lips
from tasting the fire
burning blood rising
from your toes
because the atom of still second
is exploding in the air of time inhaled
from the breath we share

But baby
I know
what dreams are made of
and how to take them apart
screw by screw
until raw truth
freefalls headfirst
onto the ground of reality
and shatters like lucid rain
out from the seam
of a broken rainbow
stretched along the horizon
of the final moment
it takes to single-handedly
bury your soul