The Kite
I pass out into a blissful dream
Where I am not expected to do anything
Be anything, mean anything
Free to float and fall and flail
My way through nonsensical situations
Constructed by my unconscious mind
Shifting sliding screens from one scene to the next
Run on from one another
No pauses glitches gaps
Just pure unedited dreams
Unravelling unwinding
The string from the plastic handle
I let the kite go further
Higher extending reaching
For the clouds that shade me from the sun
And quench my thirst
For the real yet insubstantial,
For the actual yet unreachable,
For things I look at but don’t really see;
Stop hearing and really listen
Listen
Listen and let go.
Copyright © Abi Morgan | Year Posted 2013
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