I had a dream about you. You suggested to split the profits so I did. I threw one half in the furnace to power the steam engine and the other half in the air to distract our pursuers.
You have wakened not out of sleep, but into a prior dream, and that dream lies within another, and so on, to infinity, which is the number of grains of sand. The path that you are to take is endless, and you will die before you have truly awakened.
I had a dream about you last night. Eons ago we created a Universe then sat back and watched miniature versions of ourselves try to make all the same mistakes we did.
I like the posture but not the yoga. I like the inebriated morning but not the opium. I like the flower but not the garden the moment but not the dream. Quiet my love. Be still. I am sleeping.
I had a dream about you. We were fishing in the Utah desert. You caught a dinosaur but due to Federal regulations we had to release the bones so Ted Kennedy could drive back to the cemetery drunk.
What if you slept
And what if
In your sleep
You dreamed
And what if
In your dream
You went to heaven
And there plucked a strange and beautiful flower
And what if
When you awoke
You had that flower in you hand
Ah, what then?