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This is not my dream
This is not my dream (dream)
This is not my dream,
Water consumes my feet
I glance at the lily pads and the embryonic white blossoms.
I opened my eyes to see the pond floor leading to a balcony.
The walls were fabricated with vines and the pictures hung appeared moistened.
This was not my dream.
I see the movement of the trees outside and the beautiful flight of yellow, cream colored birds with purple accents.
stepping out to the balcony I find the rocks beneath my feet were not rocks, but instead were paint; the paint splashed fiercely over my barren body.
suddenly I spy the trees dancing and grabbing hands; they looked as if they were painted also.
I paced quickly to the tallest willow that covered the bungalow.
establishing my hands on the ultramarine and brown bark,
I find that the bark did not stay stiff,
But it attached itself to me and painted my shoes.
I ran back to the vine house and as I stepped in I saw a bed that I hadn’t seen before.
I went over to see the heavenly white, pure sheets and the transparent drapes that hung above from the ceiling and melted into the floor.
This was not my dream.
Walking over to the bed was so tempting, so I let my feet carry me across the water into the comforting bed.
I jumped on, not even checking to see if it would brace my body;
My carcass began to feel sleepy and my head floated sensationally,
And my body drowned into the white clouds.
I started to fall and everything was red and black smears,
I couldn’t breathe and I felt my temperature rising as the seconds, minutes , or maybe hours passed.
Awakening, I flowed down into a shack filled with skeletons and torn wallpaper with no ceiling.
Dead burnt umber vines hung from the top supporting men with rags on their bodies.
This was not my dream