One night, you woke in the bear-suit’s dream

The bear-suit dreamed of your striped socks

The bear-suit dreamed of your ceiling

The bear-suit even dreamed of your parents

Your mother, who was bald

And your father, who had hair growing from his eyes

Quickly, you put your parents in the ceiling

And the ceiling in your socks

And your socks in her baldness

And her baldness in his eyes

And then you fastened the dream shut with a red paperclip, which is the moon’s enemy

And laughed your way into new leaves