..am, October

I walk on cotton and cloud
or streets at random
and is nothing to do with autumn
(I’ve been thinking about this)

nights are thick
stretching like a duvet
over thin light
and flashbacks are drills
penetrating the walls of my fortress
(I am not going to talk about this)

...but your name is getting louder
and louder
in my head
and when I finally fall
asleep/ there’s an echo
and pass that
there are fields and fields
of lavender
that I’m rushing through
with senses rubbed against
each and every flower
that will never smell
the same again
(perhaps I want to talk about this)

it’s 7.00 am
a woman is walking her dog
and there are not enough fingers in the world
to count the dreams
testing positive of you