Forget this dream that fuels my motion?
That makes each breath bearable
each step lighter?

Forget this dream?
Forget what makes each day spark
leaps me out of covers and into clothes?

Forget what sits like a bumblebee
ever on my forehead, waiting to sting?
What trails its fingers through my hair
and fondles my face?

How can I forget this dream?
It has meshed itself into my very fabric
into my cosmic make-up.
May as well forget my heart
to forget a dream so needed.

Published by Bexley Benton. (Pen name)

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog.

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