3 May 2012

Like catching dreams, you are my barrier.

Almost hammocked in your norm

And society breaths communal sighs,

In and out a heaving mass.

Government guidelines a goat to the sheep,

But still wolves prowl.

Picking off strailers and tailers.

Nets,

Too large for fishing, you never caught anything

Let alone me.

Stockings catch more, but the wrong type.

Webbed in enchantment, for we lie to the poll

And no one notices.

So I fall through your child sized holes and yet

Wish for swinging safety.

And I have slipped the net.

elizaDream Catcher • Opuss № I