in my dream the sky was gray.
walking down the street - i pass an old
brick wall, painted
a sad mural
lanky kids in black & white
playing instruments
sorrow in their petal eyes
& painted above their skulls
"eels" painted in thick black -
daunting.a man with a fat silver gun turns a corner
& opens my heavy black coat.
looks at my thin skin & traipses forward.
(my thin, cold skin
hovering over bone & blood -
i often wonder if it will
always remain untouched)
he traipses, yes.
unchanged by my
pale & goose-bumped coating.
i proceed into the brick building
where i work,
wrapping
choclate truffel candies
in thin pink paper.
the man with the gun
comes up behind me with the silver to my back,
says,
"keep quiet, kid..& you'll live longer."
& out goes my breath.
i am the quiet kid, the one i've always been,
the one who has stayed silent - despite the
constant chaos that it's caused.
i continue: folding, pulling, wrapping,
placing little wet pieces of glass from my eyes
in each caramel filled treat.
i leave & wrap my coat
around my paper-like dress
almost naked to the wind & pouring sky.
as i leave i see the mural come to life
& each flower-faced child becomes real
& they scatter.
but, this supple, inky boy
grabs my hand & take me into
a red red room
he takes off my coat
(& does not traipse, or hurt, or press).
& leads a dance
one that makes me twirl
(i am a dendelion, he mutters)
one that leaves his black paint prints
all over me
(i am a beautiful weed, that powders & takes wishes to the sky, he sighs).
the sun goes down, like it always does.
he is gone.
but, my skin isn't almost bare,
it is deep dark stained black.
eel, you shocked my pulse
& made the veins beat electric.
for a moment & then forever in my hopes.
& then, my eyes open
& clutching the sheets.
it is
only
a
d.r.e.a.m
