I had dreams 
of working and flying
of drowning in liqour and glitter each night

To wake up in a perfectly messy apartment
city light pouring in
and warming my perfectly smooth skin

But that was someone else’s dream
it was never mine
I wanted it for love
to be loved

Maybe I want to build a home
do laundry and scrub floors
make lunches and art
raise babies and love on my wife

Maybe instead of a townhouse
I want some land with woods and a creek
room for a garden
and patches of strawberries and rasberries
room for dirt, sweat, and barefoot feet
away from peoples noses and eyes

I don’t know anymore 
But maybe I will someday