Paper Dream
My dream, I live it
in a paper
coated with crème caramel.
I frolic in words
of my shadow
with the seas, the skies and the lands
and tread the dunes
of time, touching all the things around me;
then settle down over a midnight coffee
in the silence of night.
Oh, I do attend the Sunday mass
but don’t know why I always find myself
skipping the communion--
perhaps, to end the raging war
‘tween the “I” and “Me” in my thoughts
for them not to walk alone.
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