cash4dreams

we didn’t sell our dreams often
because they weren’t worth much
and the commitment to abandonment was more tiring than indifference
they’d bleed out of eventually through some wound the way we saw it
instead of being turned into recycled luxury goods for people who couldn’t afford them
or fed to livestock bound for slaughter
or burned for the sake of flame
but people kept asking
and sometimes we’d succumb to that ask
because there was a levity to giving up
to a disintegrating belief
to being the freshly paved asphalt
over a garden that once held roses
once they were gone
they seemed to come back less frequent
and the man in the store said that was normal
said eventually they wouldn’t come back at all
and he couldn’t pay us for whatever was left
but that was alright with us
they were better wrapped around the fingers of a failing marriage
or penetrating the holes
of a collapsed cloud