Rhino wrinkles

Before beginning to fire
Gathering around game boards
Projections onto interior clay walls
Replaying her favorite parts
Focusing the second breath
Extinguishing the flame
Pulling out of the muck the lucky ones
Roaring Rhinosoracting without question
Spruing trees of weaponry
Piercing tips punching through
Calculating costs and figure
Distracting reality
Plugging windows
Portaling through
Charging with everything it can carry
Currier couriering the clay simulation vessel studying the board.

The

Dreams are the guiding words of the soul.
Why should I henceforth not love my dreams and not make their ridding images into objects of my daily consideration?

Tidings from the ocean floor

Waiting in the room
In the land where nothing happens, the need for Dream ceases to exist.
Deceiving drugs my body
Finding rest of the rest of the restless.
Less now then before,
Stealing dreams from before,
Copying them
Suburbing bacteria growing fungi in my mind.
Pausing from the panic of no escape
Except through closing eyes looking back
Firsting times seeing you. 

Ministering   future food comforting  huddle

companioning as a school of one