Alex and Seb play dreams like others play Lego
They stack theirs together,
to make a bridge all the way to
Elsewhere
pouring litres of coffee to not wake up
They breathe air in the loop
between each other’s ears
until it pops
ideas like bricks
hard enough to support their ambitions
If trees can make wood out of thin air,
they can make filter coffee out of thin dreams
if only his eyes were not English blue
they would have been like two drops
of coffee splashing open a milk eyed dream
looking beneath the bridge—
the long windy road to Ithaka
They stack theirs together,
to make a bridge all the way to
Elsewhere
pouring litres of coffee to not wake up
They breathe air in the loop
between each other’s ears
until it pops
ideas like bricks
hard enough to support their ambitions
If trees can make wood out of thin air,
they can make filter coffee out of thin dreams
if only his eyes were not English blue
they would have been like two drops
of coffee splashing open a milk eyed dream
looking beneath the bridge—
the long windy road to Ithaka