this is the water
and this is the w3ll
drink full
and descend,
the horse is the white of the eYes 
and dark within.

i daydream,
i daydream of walking in 
amethyst cobblestone,
talking to the lonesome ghost
how i’m simply flesh and bone,
the tone of your skin,
your translucent ice,
has drawn dim memories 
overlapping like films in the sky,
time is our only resource,
the clock says its nice of you to stop by,
dawn frowns as the horse rears,
it needs a partner for whom to share tears,
but the only friend it could trust is time,
thoughts, patterns, and illusions,
holds ones image,
they are walls of imperfection,
look closely and you’ll see 
the blemish,
for this is only
my lovely potemkin village.

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