Only dream
on the last night
in each bed, a dream
of shipping crates,
lifted and sat down by
the hand of a crane
I feel the difference
between winning and
not winning
a prize for you
in these moments
when life is contained
There’s a fair
you wanted
to go to. To be fair
I always assumed
we would go
It magically appeared
on the side
of I-35, opening
like a way home
once it is remembered
There are lights
when some people
can’t see lights
Lights in the carnival
Lights in the compromise
I always thought
it was light
that let you lie to our
guests about
the door I broke
The type of light
that spins, stopping
momentarily
at the top, then
tipping over