red and gold and soul-stealing
past the point of no return
the fire burns.
All I can think of is what it would feel like to leave on the next outgoing flight to wherever.
Waking up somewhere I've never been before.
Making my way like wildfire and like smoke.
Doing things that blind the senses.
Seeing things the masses dismiss for children's fancies and the dancers in the dark.
I'd paint the sky so blue you'd never see the sun.
I'd make a finding for all the treasure in the hidden places and the corner-holes.
I'd make the staring difference disappear.
I'll find you and pick you out of the sky:
like an apple
like a dream
like a song.
Yes, call me dreamer, liar, child.
But ah! such dreams cannot help but be real.
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