Featured Poem 8/3/05

Under a Hotter Sun, Brighter Dust Tomorrow

I fold my eyes
inside out, looking in, there’s always a crooked new way to walk
if you can see in darkness,
a better way to feel your way home
if you can bend to those walls
bending against you
fold your own mind
own your own mind

Dreams are dreams
to those who can detach from color

(odorless, non-apparitional
shapeless tears and un-graspable)

I can eat my dreams
looking in and my dreams can eat me
looking out

with no known control
no master and servant roles
there are questionable doors that come unlocked or re-lock
shell shock trap doors or exits
reprise or re-incrimination

dreams can be screams that echo for light years
laughter filled madness
loving, or corpse black hole skinned
as real as you are to me at times in shock
when I'm frozen

when at times I’m blind and screaming in shadows
as I become shadow, as I stretch into a scream
that fills unto the brim of a different, heavy dimension

My subconscious bends
I am cooked in my sleep
I grieve to the stars
forwards and backwards
then back again rising
I learn my stain of time,
though I beg for release constantly
want to float constantly

Soul skied fingers touch me and ripple through my body as I re-attach to the surface and to angles,
to shapes and matter manifested
all the want that became need
escaped from my dreams,
it now bleeds from my eyes, my palms,
my cursive smile

As I wake up
I know who I am
and still forget to breathe,
to come up for air
under a hotter sun, brighter dust tomorrow

Rebecca Susan Lemke

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