Sugar. Sugar butter flour. Sometimes I still see her. My mother the dreamer. She'd say "Nothing's impossible child". A dream needs believing. To taste like the real thing. Like some stranger you recognize. So pure so pure so electric. So sure so sure so connected. To those little believers inside. May we all be so lucky. But dreams are elusive. The kind we've gotten used to. Is nothing I can feel. Nothing I can hold. Nothing I can have. Nothing that I know. Dreams come and they go. But hold them and keep them. And know that you need them. When your breaking point's all that you have. A dream is a soft place to land. May we all be so lucky. Sugar butter flour