In my dream you speak to me like I'm the pet parrot that escaped out your mouth when you said elope, not to make an exit but to see you right. Spilling out like that wasn't on my agenda, just as being a cage wasn't your face's plan. In the dream you let me hover close enough to follow your eyes around as they spot bluebirds and dismiss them, when they turn inside out & see nothing but shopping lists that you dont turn around to see the little scribble on anymore. In my dream I explained my fall, warped wings et al. The skies were making me complacent I said, all branches were laden with honey but then there was you with your big smiling cave and we- then you shut me up like you used to, like I was the swallow for your hollow and we, I said to every organ I met inside, only made sense without the fear of spilling out.