current | archives | rings | guestbook | profile | notes | design | host

v u l v a l i c i o u s

water dreams
2013-08-28 // 5:00 p.m.

everything is water.

the setting is new york and parts north. westchester county. that bridge so long that it's slowly sinking into the hudson (i can't remember its name any more).

i say everything is water because i am starting with our kiss: too wet and soft to be anything like reality. later when i tell you it wasn't like i imagined it would be, you tell me never to talk about it again. when i awake i will think on this moment and laugh to myself, because it's all a trick.

i've imagined kissing you like this in a dream and said i can't have imagined it. the mind is a funny thing, a pale wash of color that bleeds across the page.

somehow i travel, wind up high up, looking into the eyes of a tender giant. i don't expect him to speak in words i understand, and his voice coming out so soft and gentle is a sweet surprise. i watch him grip other people, holding them and folding them, placing them in the water like babies.

when it's my turn it's brief; to be honest i don't remember it. i only remember looking up and seeing the action from that perspective, then looking out across the water at two moons shining in the distance. the body of water was glassy and clear, on the shore like a lake or river, but with lines along the bottom as if i were in a swimming pool.

everything was reflected. i laid my hands on the top of the stillness and then dipped down again. from below i could see that one the moons was a projection. my mind filled in: not there but still real. i chose to let the two moons exist, in spite of seeing that one of them was only an image.

perception defining reality.

somehow i was gone. i drove away or was picked up and driven. my dad brought me food; he offered to take me back to the city. i ate the sandwich he gave me, but asked that we stop at a dog park. i ran into a friend from college, and she talked with me for a moment.

i've forgotten what was said, but at the time it seemed important. the dogs came when i called them. the friend and i looked out over the water. we were standing on the bridge (the one that's slowly sinking) and i watched as an unmoored dock floated, whole, down the river.

"that can't be good," i said. "that can't be right."

"it's not supposed to do that, but it will be fine," she returned.

a boat appeared, dragging a part of the dock with it. the water wasn't rushing, but the boat still bobbed along quickly. i knew it wasn't right, but i also knew that my friend was right. it was fine. or at least there was really nothing i could do.

somehow i was at a party, then. i still knew i wanted to get back to the city, but i was apprehensive. holding myself back.

at the party a man talked about how he'd kill his wife. "i'd just kill her and then throw her body over this, make it look as if she'd done it herself."

i wanted to get out, so i went to the bathroom. the toilet was on a screened in porch, and as i sat down i realized people could probably see in. there were 10 people outside, lounging in chairs. i decided to go ahead and get out quickly.

then 200 people appeared, all flooding past the doors at once. it decided it didn't matter, and finished my business. wanted to use them to sneak out quietly.

i was stopped by some children playing at selling things. fake fruits and vegetables. and a real banana.

i was still on my way out when the dream ended.

and i don't know what would have happened if i'd made it back to the beginning. i only know that when i told you about this dream, your first response was: tell me more about this giant.


and it hurts - 2014-02-26
in love with artists - 2014-02-07
i don't believe you - 2013-10-16
fault lines - 2013-10-01
bff - 2013-08-30