The Blot
His ribcage rushed to fill a new birthed space.
The night had been a barrel of dark dreams,
yet despite this other demanding cosmos of himself,
the daylight brought hope.
Riding unhindered by personal perspective
he relaxed as the bus took him
to a world where lovers
wrote themselves into a fantasy
that bloomed into existence once imagined.
Marveling as one silent, yet singing page
turned another, marveling at the land
that flowered with the voices of a redrawn past,
(for all days now were turning perfectly). Almost…
for he now noticed a blot, a small imperfect blot
in the far corner of a blue sky.
At that instant all the riders,
all the watchers, and all the watched
noticed the blemish.
The bus screeched to a halt.
People hurried to get off the vehicle
as if terrified of staying,
and yet terrified of leaving.
His heart thudded deeply.
His ribcage began to shrink
as he found himself rolling
over and over again inside the ribcage
of a dreaming whale.
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