Maybe we say pencils have lead

(It’s really graphite, I know)

Because of how heavy it lies on paper

Superman can’t see through that

So we shade in the corners

Hoping the impression

Of the bedside pad’s previous note

Will be more transparent

Revealing some half-asleep line

A dream you woke up from 

And tried to capture 

Before it dissolved

You let that dream

Lie lead-heavy on the page

So when you’ve had your Saturday coffee

And you look upon it quizzically

It will reveal what you forgot

To tell yourself  


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