Dreams Unfold
By Chip Marks

These cross-town junctions bleed me slowly
Under these bridges dreams float and I know what’s real.
Total fantasy in glass envelopes of your liking.
Crystal green pebble for your enjoyment,
where we hope the sun never shines.
I hide in these deeper shadows in hope of
low level maintenance of these slithy addictions.
Sunlight does not visit us down here.
Inhabitants under ribbons of some childlike obsession
They made these for sun seers, for the ones who live above me.
Like he said the haves and the have mores, I don’t know those beings.
They don’t live in these regions, special dark spaces for our secret.
We bury our own down here while, they bury there dead up there.
In the last final seconds we both meet in the in between
I live under these bridges, places we feed,
dream and lights flicker in cannons of prayer.
Highways lost we come to our end of the roads,
destination final wave, classic goodbyes.
I wished I lived here but alas,
I live above in tinted glass realities,
These passing bridges fly by,
taking my breath away with flickering moments of darkness.
In these places my soul lives, light jitters,
blood flows, dark bridges mourning.
And in that moment in between,
I thought I saw you, pure ownership.
Godlike reverence to the power you hold, the power I give.
Then I am awaken on long stretches of highway
I do not know nor do I care anymore.