those pinpoint dreams turn into an unfocused eye test
with broad strokes, and a blur of indecipherable colour
once experienced, turns into the mundane
once wondrous, now a bore
i lay breathing gently, unable to unable to
string my thoughts together, to crush the uneasy rebellion
of repetition, of repetition, of repetition, of repetition
until the apathy fades to sharp pangs of agony and longing and elucidated eternal truth
of crushing sadness and disappointment
so i double back, and take a different exit
and here it comes
the repetition, the repetition, the repetition, the repetition
a small blossom, brings a curled smile
to a howling laughter that clears my belly
and plants the seeds for the spring
where the hazy colours sharpen sharpen
crystal
crystal happiness
and the pangs of immemorial sadness turn into a trite experience
of a past belonging to another
sadder me
