Untitled poem

It is easy to go under. It is easy to go on. When all the dreams are lovers. And all the lovers are gone. When they go you surface. When they stop you stare. All the dreams are sleeping and no one really cares. From a distance they seem luscious. Up close they seem true. All the dreams are dreamers that long to dream of you. And when you’re dreamed, you’re striking. And when you’re dreamed, you’re spring. And the dreams that are not about you do not mean a thing. It is easy to go under, it is easy to go on. When all the lovers are dreaming and all the dreamers are gone.

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