Wasted Dreams

by Meredith Pitt

So perfect, high rolling hills

covered in heather and gorse;

that faint coconut smell mixed

with peaty earth.

Sky so far it becomes the

future itself.

Yes, it is possible, I opened

a window and let a little

out; just enough to be

dry and warm.

There are always more

with you, yes the iodine

smell will go soon; it

follows me.

Irresistible nautilus paths

paved with gold.

Sleep on your left ear,

you may even gather

them back, they’re a

little tight, here.