the dream, compressed

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  • Fantasy

    the dream, compressed

    sometimes i just want to bask underneath your face,
    dream weave a hammock that connects to the dimples in your cheeks then sleep...

    your face, appeared when i slept
    and your smile, sweats my mind, so my dreams became wet
    and i wake up wondering how it ended so quick.
    how in a period of sleep, 6 hours compress into 15 minutes

    it was all so sequential and vivid
    and for a very quick minute..i lived it.

    my spine aligned with this rolodex that flips through my memory, jogging for a time and place we can meet next time i sleep. and my neck is outstrected, asking for a peck while my hemispheres connect, and your there as i wished and you lean in to kiss but... what the fuck, i woke up! ill take all the sleeping pills in the world to see you again!

    I'll take sides with the suicidal tendencies I never contemplated just to see if my soul does make it to heaven to read this note i wrote for the clerk at the pearly gates. It'll just say, "have you seen her?!

    she was like a human, but spoke phrases that would tattoo on to you. when she kissed me, all my throat would do is close, not wanting to let her saliva digest, afraid that the soil couldn't handle her proteins that I'll sweat back out, if we were to lay on a bed of grass out in a vast meadow, making love as our hormones meet for the first time, hang the "do not disturb" sign..

    divine? a figment of my imagination? i show patience...because her tidbits of existence in my sub-consciousness are precious, and though i don't sleep much, she taught me how to live in a dream.

    all so sequential and vivid
    and for this quick compressed minute..i lived it.

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    In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

    Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.

    ackronym’s Poems (13)

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