in a dream you were an airplane,
all sleek and metal and modernity
that flies past
and seeks the ground unknowing,
floating in the sky like seaweed on the sand.
in a dream you were the body incarnate
and thought only of the dirt,
in a dream you flew like iron being forged
from viscous possibility
into caged strength.
and i was all the things that you were not:
soft and simple,
a shape melded together with love
and all the things the past can mean,
a guitar chord softly strung
by someone who knows the words to the song.
in a dream i was your opposition
and left inside the earth,
unmined, unwarranted, i learned the path
up amongst the caves to find the surface
and dig you up too,
the way to the surface that let dirty hands
mire you and mesh you into a machine
that flew and groaned and did not return,
and i was what you are not.