he had that dream again
that photos had skins
they opened and poured out
a strange odor and water
he dreamt that he could run his finger along the horizon and catch dust and soil and bits of the embers
of that setting sun just beyond
He dreamt that it all smeared into an odd kind of peanut butter in the interlocked lines of his finger
skin and fingerprint…like mud into fields….like everything for once could just come together
make sense for once in that impossible way