Lightbulb dreams

Who? Who?

All I see:faceted dreams

Sparkling a thousand suns bright.

Years of crinkled paper/littered art/stained fingers

Rusty pages after dark-

My first sunrise

Life blooms in the oily sky

Red on orange on yellow on pink

Blue. Green. Purple.

Bookshelves sold miles high with my lightbulbs.

My pen/silver slashes on paper/white

And it bleeds-

Black.

Bits of my soul meant for falling into the eyeholes of intimate strangers.

Sunrise leaks out of my canvas gaze

Who? Who?

Who will I end up?

I don't know/ will I ever know?

I hope not

Because-

That will mean I have run out of lightbulb dreams.