i’ve just always been scared that dreams are a sign of something deeper. i haven’t had many any dreams lately but i remember the one that after not being able to get over it for a few days, wrote the line “it’s just a silly dream” in the attempt to console myself that it was indeed “just a silly dream.” it was sillier then because the context in the dream was quite simply put, wrong, and seemed quite impossible to ever happen in the near future then. it’s different now i guess because there’re alot more emotions at stake but i have treated the precious and fragile with as much care as i can offer. and yet it scares me because the dreams represent the mere consideration of even the frailest possibility of such occurences; and i had not considered it.
it is late.
a moz quixote 
conceivability entails possibility.
and why oh whyyyyy are you still stuck on hughes.
hughes was where the wonders of poetry was introduced to me. a large part of my understanding of poetry as expression stems from there!