Contributor: Matt Norman

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Everything happens
in the dark-
you cookie-cut open
my skull and reached in
up to your elbow,
left a dream there of
me telling you what your eye looks like
under the moon and close to mine;
all black and in the middle,
a cookie with the texture
of bark from the tree of light,
like a card they might give you
at the store for astral wallpaper, telling you
this is what it will look like in your home,
above your tranquil sleep,
plastered around the inside
of your mind beneath the
stately boab all aglow in the
peace of the storm


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