I am the mysterious character
in a stranger’s dream
showing him the vast ocean
inside his coat closet,
placing my finger on my lips,
urging him not to speak of it.
I am the random stranger
in the background of a photo
you took at Love Park.
I will jump into your cloud
like it’s a pile of leaves.
I am morning with a side of noon.
I am a paper trail of thoughts,
a rose covered lover clinging
to the hem of a summer frock
worn by a baroness of the old world.
I am a notable myth you mentioned.
I close the loops on all your nines.
