Possibility

I remember the dock. The summer night cools as the Cheshire smiles. Marshmallows cry off in the distance. Their last rites read by the whispering flames. Their tongues lap at the sweet offerings. The dim light barely registers. I scan the infinite canvas before me. Specks of dust, above as below. But interpretation alters perception. Heaven beyond the details. Worlds, journeys, and Gods weaved amongst the space. No monster in the dark. My dreams linger on the dock. The cosmos, mine to forge.