Geometric Dreaming

Unending lines, vast voids, shapes meddle with my mind and ghost an odd geometry, the same that sometimes twitch when a sudden waking decapitates a dream. Time dilates or shrinks to a tiny dot pulling all into its orbit then ruptures into a rainbow, each strand of color winding tighter and tighter around my head. It's the sense of not being able to fit back into the space where I belong, when I become either too small or too big or somehow utterly change in shape. Such disorientation lingers, never quite forming into a coherent thought but floats the boundaries like a mist clouding the fevered brain of a child who, emerging from hallucination, cannot give form to the terror. A part of me remains there held in the thick webs of a dream, at times breaking through the surface of sleep into where my waking mind holds me, fearful, frothed in the real. Note. This poem takes “geometric nightmares and/or dreams” as its subject. I have had these most of my life and what I once thought to be rare are apparently experienced by many. The poem probably won't make much sense without having a little knowledge of the phenomenon. Almost impossible to describe the dream experience in words and the residual distortions that linger after waking.