who gave it to you?

297 is it not our dreams that propose, to share a room? Throwing tea ceremonies over the shift box ghost, To match the gap, To make a game of life and death, Balanced on the best part of a banana peel, In a world where nothing can fly, The bitter and the bright, Just a matter of trust, And memory does the rest, Frame the host with a toast, A counter and a cusion, And so he listens to the clouds, And his eyes are soothed, Part covered in jasmine petals, I am on the inside, Where only a dream of me remains a trail to the window, Is it not my companions who remember me? As a chance to soften again? To stand still and take up drops of rain, But really, I’m a dust bug in warp drive, Glued to the opti meter, Pin in a pit cog, Mostly covered in sky, Inoculated, Raspy toothed, Bought buoyancy balancing alibis, Where only I escape the little space where nothing touches, Movement defined in bat defiance, The truth and the heart race against each other, Sorted by a rubber band, Touched by a huber hand, I told my self it never meant anything and cover the final fatal design, With sand and micro stitiches, teeth and turn, The thief will burn, Leaves over wedding grass, Keep to click, Morning moonrise, To keep in the slip, Fit the out with bob and trial, Best guesses we never make waiting any less wasteful, Clip and cloud, It’s all out now, Faded lines, missing pieces, Slip song, Pasted lies fall for the richer blessing of loss, Half weeping am I really seeing?