Poems

Talking In My Sleep / עדן קופרמינץ

I have a few small things
that reside in the box of my dream.
A bird of my own desire, a paradise
of wings, nestled in the heart
of a collapsing theme.

I  have a few ordinary things
that live in the temple of my dream.
A heart in exile, a whispering
of kings, cherished in the crux
of a distorted stream.

I have a few worn-out things
that are held in the hands of my dream.
A crowning moment, a flickering
of rings,  hidden in the midst
of a mischievous beam.

Nestled in the heart
of a collapsing theme;
cherished in the crux
of a distorted stream;
hidden in the midst
of a mischievous beam;

I live out my dream.

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