I - My Imaginary Friend

I wake up in a bath of sweat I am late starting my journey Weightless clothes hide my being Protect the skin from reality, my reality The garage door shuts up in a rearview mirror There is nothing else but emptiness The rose bushes prune themselves For an artificial Californian winter Dislocated trees pretend to whither genetically Along the street I slide encapsulated in soundproof I ride in a bath of distorted forms Cannot figure out why the street ends up in stairs I merge in an one-way freeway with ends of marine layers Curious eyes greet somber, slow and mute police lights I am finally free to fly and collapse in the Pacific Slapped by wreaths with my name in purple * A three year old with ash blonde hair jumps up her beach towel She runs towards the ocean in an excited déjà vu I grab me with my two little hands and smile at my regenerated youth An obsessive dream re-occurring - our street ending up in stairs… Again and again…