a real dream, according to science

standing still the same
in different bones
rain came the same way
it rains at home

translucency and powdered
donuts like stuffed smoke rings
stuff the wooden bowls
you keep upstairs in your brainmatter

my dream’s a quantum seeming
an itchy unseaming
at the very, very crisscross
of matter and my holy ghost

wouldn’t you unworld sometimes
your mind’s explanations and settle
for the alien rainbows of raw
experience in a cup of sprite

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