i wish i could bring a notebook with me into my dreams, so that i can remember in vivid clarity what it felt like to have the moon so close that i could leap into our sky and land onto its waning surface with perfect grace and ease . i want to remember running around the damp rings Saturn with his hand tangled with mine , or how his lips felt to build a garden out of stars on velvety clouds . i want details on how i felt brushing against mine , and how many heartbeats fluttered trough my body s i found a lock behind his rises and made home in the left ventricle of his heart . i want to have evidence of being able to fly , ripping the seams of the atmosphere and feeling my fingertips glide apart the ocean as i looked down and saw sea turtles with redwoods growing out of its shell . no one will ever believe that i've swam in emerald rivers of forgotten books , or that i've gone unnoticed in shark-infested waters while i was trembling so so hard that my palms sweated out lakes . i want everybody to be able to know that picnics on the surface of the sun are quite lovely , and if you dig a hole deep enough , you can have tea parties with silky copper foxes in top hats , these worlds that i visit are so beautiful ,so mystical , so dangerous , and i just wish that someone would believe that this couldn't be my imagination .i can't create worlds so three dimensional .
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