Paper on the table
Corners slightly torn
Circles drawn in pen
Places not yet born
Coffee stain like coastline
Names along the edge
One word scratched to nothing
Half a broken pledge
Spill a little dream
Let it fade and blend
Every crooked line
Leads us there again
Spill a little dream
On the shape of when
Every crooked line
Leads us there again
Arrows through the margins
Questions in the ink
Dotted paths to maybe
X’s where we sink
Fold along the middle
Hold it to the light
All the almost-wonders
Bleeding into white
Spill a little dream
Let it fade and blend
Every crooked line
Leads us there again
Spill a little dream
On the shape of when
Every crooked line
Leads us there again