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i am my daydreams second guessing conception of a real me.

thoughts and memories and dreams are all so easily skewed, and sometimes, in mid-mornings, they grasp each other tightly (skinny children-- giddy and proud) and can never be convinced to let go.

The overlap infront of me is visible now, (a dog running across the yard.) and suddenly the air's tinged with cream. For a split second, my worlds touch. it is encompassing and i know now i have lived before.

A human soul cannot be bottled. A child on a street corner plays with mine, whilst the marbles roll in all different directions. I am not alone, there are so many of me.