Friday, November 20, 2015

Incubus

You already know I dream rich when I am down.
Engaging.
Vibrant.
With feel.
Using a lot of color to paint a lot of pain.

When I woke up this morning,
minutes before the alarm,
I still felt the touch and the emotion
and I knew - for a fact - that the dream was a lie.
Often it takes me minutes, sometimes days, to be certain that the dreamstuff did not happen.
But not this time.

The pain is fierce and fresh.
The decree final.


Thoughts whistle through the silent void.

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