Dreamcatcher

My thoughts meander
In first person
Through geometric patterns
Woven with dreamy glow

I am the centre of the culvert

Which bends towards you

And then disappears behind

A foliage

Of ugliest brown

Vintage solitude.

I am the incline

Of the scale

Which refuses to measure

Your lengths

In my breadths

And the hypotenuse of

Long dead human concern

Longer than the sum

Of your lengths in my breadths.

I am the radius

Of the ellipses

Which dot the ends

And enjambments

In all sentences

Phrases

Murmurs

I create and destroy

Within the haven of

Illuminated text boxes.

I am the angle

Between my desire

And your swollen ego

Acutely aware of the

Obtuse notions

You straightened in your head

At quarter past nine

Over an empty flute of wine.

I am the point at which

Reality blurs

Into forcibly conjured dreams.

Nightmares of your departure

Touched by the feathers

Of my dreamcatcher.

You left.

Nightmares left.

I am the circumference

Around the dreamcatcher

Swaying without a centre