Luke

by Christos Polydorou

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My dreams create bodies.
I lie awake, filled
through to the skin with
starry nights

and beyond them
bright constellations.
Darling, you abandoned me
and in so doing (eventually)
let me go, let me out,
let me loose.

To err is human,
to forgive is divine,
maybe falling in love
with you was a mistake
maybe it wasn’t.

But now my eyes
are underground train tunnels
for rivers that begin
in the luke in the sky.
Do you lapse, and think of me?

I am trying to control my
mind’s subject matter
more so these days.
There are slip ups
but mostly I am
controlling the flow

or seem to be,
by the precious things.
My dreams,

they create heavenly bodies,
spreadeagled arms dancing through
the clouds, making it rain.
They begin in attics.

Raise your hands.

Extend your antennas.

We started with the moon.

Mars is next.

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