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2002-07-02 - 2:12 a.m.

we had a lot of dreams

a summer of lambs. a doe hums starry words that buzz into the night, soften hard ears-pause-fall-and seep into the pine needle forest floor. wait for me. hide in the smallest tardis trap door. plant a poppy field. nap in frozen forest time.

i'll bake cookies. forget about the bad dream. the dream we had before we came to the forest. it's all gone now. i reach up high. sigh and drink the cold moon in little lamb sips.

baah