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.