Metaphors

Just after the night we dream.All our metaphors come back,sleep stuff hid below pillows.The pillows are our metaphors for the small things we forget during sleep, on the wayside.They are fluffy swan feathers and we fight till they fill our air.

We run out of our metaphors when we are fixedly focused on a ceiling of empty breeze and arguments come to close on other side, beyond a glass.That is when eyes turn pearls in a final burst of metaphors.