Lions In a Blue Sea

It's 2:48am
and no body is awake
maybe my dreams still are
the ones that feel strange, look out of place
my golden irrevocably breathing creatures
whose hair flows like corn stalks swaying
in a field
and who move like silk across a woman's legs
who rise and fall like violin bows
they are perfect, these lions of mine
bred with my quixotic unreality
groomed and maintained only by my own fabrications
They are perfect and they are pawing
at the chapters of bubble and foam
as they freestyle in the middle
of an unaccompanied blue sea
they wend on in a direction opposite to the current
looking like suns drowning in an indigo sky
but they do this because they are so perfect and they are mine
and they love me.

-anna sluder 

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