Small Dreams and Night Pearls

 
Small dreams will kill us.
What was it you were saying, reaching,
when we collided with the measured clocks
that serve only to bury us
under a sorcerer's apprentice spurt of shoulds?


Sit with me, like the (once upon a lost) time
we had our elbows in sand, toes in the surf,
kissed smiles in the stars —
when the moon shone for us alone
and every thought was a pearl offering.


A thousand dawns later, you say I cried in my sleep.
I say, I don't remember it, nor my small dreams...
Let's find those stars, that hallowed moon,
because night pearls are beautiful
and I miss their soft sheen.