Dream #4

Giant obsidian waves cleave against each other
Shining like the coffins of magicians
A mesmerizing undulation.
White knuckles of foam smash and join the frothing sprawl.
The waves crash in through the open windows of this apartment,
Rushing over the wood floors, soaking the carpet.
Michael shuts the window.
His father says,
“Don’t gamble with marigolds. They never last.”
His voice is a needle slowly swiped across the record.
His hands shake dejectedly.
His eye is a portal to aquamarine, Poseidon’s bed sheets.
There is no fear here.
Only wonder and awe at the dark surge,
The secrets that rumple the blanket,
The depth beyond this silence.
Uncrumple the antidote and piece together the notes;
Seek out the hidden melody.
Throw yourself into the fearsome tumult and scrub yourself clean
With the jagged words, hurried thoughts, and magnificent love.
Memorize the words you can’t read.
Your heart will define them for you.
Use them to soak up the impossible,
Let them be the stones that help you cross
The chaos.
Erase nothing because everything fades in time.
Like this dream.
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About brokeMC

Artist: Graphic Design, Audio Production, Photo and Film Production and Editing, Painting, Writing, and all other manner of creative indulgence. and my moonwalk is ill.
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