pocket protector

you would not know this
a dream i have kept inside
a pocket, to hold

there it is loose but
the grip is a comfort, a
note, corners crumbling

ink: washed out
lines: ablur
feeling:
bold

firstly: yes

stop me for good reason
whisk me somewhere that takes the b r e a t h

or
let
me
run

laced

far on, they wandered,
farther, and they stood. an edge
and a horizon

fingers-laced, they stood