There exist visions improbable
Far-fetched as it is incredible
That no one else can see
Visitors only
Where flowers bloom in Winter
Sky turns to fluff
And we’ve read dots
On sheets of blank paper
Connecting stripes made of
Cement and chalk
Pyramids and the Eiffel and
Colors beyond the grand scale
The horizon isn’t tangible
Because there is nothing above you
In magician’s attire
With garments befitting
Our hats contain the world
Collective, inquisitive, impulsive,
Precarious selves
We find amazement
In the most curious of places
Merpdo Stories 