So I’ve been dreaming these strange dreams lately. Injured eagles. Erupting volcanoes. Aging queens. Dancing snakes. Talking cigarettes. Laughing dogs. Sometimes, I’m flying, other times I’m fighting. The strange thing is, I can control the outcomes of these dreams most of the times. The only way I know that this is not a dream, is because I”m writing. I could never write, not for a dream.
Morning in a city- Edward Hopper (Image credits)
I was smoking cigarettes all night.
And haggling to buy a sarangi.
I was making love to a beautiful woman.
eyes of an ocean,
lips like moonshine,
Legs, never ending legs and moans,
But she turned into a man.
So long, love, so long.
Her wounded eagle wrote me a sonnet.
My german showed me what it meant.
Of love and lovers.
My heart sinks.
My heart laughed.
It has played it’s part.
I am thinking of leaving,
Of infidelity and betrayal.