Sabrina
Last night, in a dream of magnitude
the airport caught my footsteps in steel and tunneled walls
The lava buzz behind me filled me up with a certain impatience
and my sweet subconscious sifted through a thousand fired tongues
until it rested on the resonance of one lost in time: yours.
Immediately, my response was one of sleep perfection
while the dream delayed my thoughts and dragged them
like flowing rivers on either side of the metal extravaganza
the airport staff was selling gadgets in colors yet unheard of
and the plane I had to catch was carrying me to my own reality show
and while you slid on behind me, catching your own planes to fill your backpack
living lives I never stepped in, laughing, breaking hearts with ease
I somehow knew to stop the flow, to turn around and bend the time
'till my face met your own in kind and we broke all our years of silence
How come dreams never age their subjects?
No wrinkles on your brow, hair in black and rivers shining
smiling with your electric light which runs through every vein.
I immediately linked my arm in yours, head in the crook of your neck
and through this touch we sent every bit of history lost between us
Pulling me into an airport staff cubby, where the colors still stayed my eyes
you gave me numbers to memorize which would somehow reunite us again
when time wasn't forcing us in opposite, unyielding directions.
I tried to tell you my memory was terrible and I didn't understand how this would work
but you had no address in my dream, and somehow neither did I.
After all, the reality show I was flying toward was going to be never ending and
since I was the guest, it wasn't appropriate to receive mail.
My dream swept me past you then, but not before filling the room with love
and feeling complete in the seeing of you, the knowledge of the lack of wear
time's had on us, our connection still brighter than the baubles, the trinkets
of penitence around so many necks of so many so-called friends.
I woke this morning with a desperate yearn to remember lost numbers
with their significance failing me, infused with yet another reminder that
dreams are only cathartic while you are dreaming
and they pack a heaving bite when you wake to dissipation.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment