There is repetition
In the dream, there is repetition
In the dream, I cannot make them understand
In the dream, my fingertips itch, and they redden –
In the dream, there is the dream of colour.
In the dream, I trap a pigeon in the ceiling
In the dream they tell me don’t tell me your dreams
In the dream the objects move when I’m not looking
In the dream, I run a bath that overfills and
in the dream, it leaves a tidemark like a sock around my ankle.
In the dream, I watch them watch me
In the dream, I speak of solitude
In the dream I do not dare hold out my hands.
In the dream, I am amphibious, I see my breath fog up the window.
In the dream I know I dream but cannot wake.
In the dream, I hide my face within the bathroom mirror
In the dream the bed sheets twist around my ankle
In the dream I cannot make them understand.
Read the rest of Overland 223
–