Monday, June 3, 2013

I Dream in Color

I was not living in a hotel
with a faceless brunette or
feeling frustrated by the
pressures of some job
I’ve never had.

I was flooded with feelings
of loss, of love, of regret, of
joy and deep sadness. The
feelings lingered as I woke up
and I had a hard time realizing
I had only been napping deeply on
my couch on a Sunday.

I know the dreams were in color
and vibrant. I somewhat recall
feeling mournful love in one
dream. Then it changed to
an icy coldness in my heart.
I was no longer invested
in whatever I had been so
deeply invested in as the
dream had started with.

The colors added to
the rawness of the
dream, like seeing the sunlight through
a prism and seeing the rainbow
colors swirl against the wall
and change depending
on where you’re standing.

You don’t see red, it is crimson.
You don’t see green, it is emerald.
You don’t see blue, it is indigo.

The true cruelty of dreaming
is the inability to describe it
or explain it to the non-dreamer.
My dreams had all the color
intensity of a salt water fish
tank bursting with tropical
fish around a sun dappled coral
reef. It’s all a jumble however.
And Sunday napping on the
couch can lead to all kinds of
early afternoon confusion. Who was
she? Why was she there? Why
was I with her?

The answers are further away
as she fades into the colors
of reality. Will she wait for
me to return to sleep and
swaddle me in the rolling
blanket of dreaming color?

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