many times in my sleep i dream
the weirdest braided dream i ever could be in
the tangle of arms and the shadow of the lights
the glow of the red night
clinging softly yet it never fades.
i never asked fo rthe stars
i never asked for the night
i never asked for the sparks
i never asked for the lights
the silhoutte you left on my night light
shines ever so brightly in the sun
and the warmth of all the things left unsaid
tingles me with thoughts of immeasureble
uncertainty in the darkness of your glow
i long for the scraps and the bits
and the tiny pieces of ashes on snow
i yearn for the flaps and the claps
after the comic's one man show.