I would like to squeeze a

dream so tight it oozes between

my fingers, so I can test what

it’s made of, its strength, its

inner fibers. I need to know why they

shatter so easily when I’ve

treated them so carefully,

held them next to my heart,

kept them in cotton batting,

kept them warm and dry.

I would like to throw a dream hard

against a wall to see how much

it takes to break it, but

I’m afraid. The one I choose to

experiment on might turn out to be

the only dream that truly

fits me.

by Cher Bibler