~¤~

a lucid dream, Pt. I

And so I'm finally outdoors again: among the fragrant trees under the clear blazing skies and the waterside, yet invisible, toned up in the air.
When we came out on the porch facing southwest I said, I thought we would see.
Not here you answered. Because as you remember, to the far right of the house that's where you can see.
Does the sun always set in the west? I ask full of laughter and bat my lashes seductively.
Almost always you say and then take my hand.
I'm in full swing you say.
In full swing of what? I look up from under my bangs askew at you head on side.
I carefully and thoroughly cultivate my planted love's passion, you reply in a way that only you can while smiling with your eyes.
Does it grow? I teasingly say girlishly acting a fool.
Just far too quick, you answer and wrap me up into your arms.
And my little plantation is called returned feelings I am mumbling close to the pit of your throat.
Needs much watering and nutriment then you whisper into my hairline.


(Calin 04/05/09)

LPWJ eng version 15/12/09


a lucid dream, Pt. II

Then we walk down to the water.
This can't be real, I say. What? you look at me inquiringly.
That you and I are walking here and never known eachother before? I reply, somewhat cautiously.
No, it is probably a damned lie, you say and smile.
Yes, something that only you can think of, a faint smile as if to take the sting out of the thing that we both knew.
Then the breeze is blowing up and I widen my nostrils and take deep breaths, swallow against the wind and I am screaming: This can never be a lie.
It is the downside of something else you say aloud to be heard over the blowing wind.
The downside of what? I ask.
I don't know you say. Reality in a box. We have been granted a box which we've never seen before you whisper close into my ear.
And so we stand there closely squeezed together and see: a heavy faint sunglittering watersurface, the blue horizon unbroken.
I want to see more I say. Here, there are no walls, no fences I smile and do the arms upwards stretch.
Who am I? I inquire quietly.
I don't know you reply. Maybe just a woman: something that is simply lovely, uncomplicated, elementary. You smile against my back.
Something like that does not exist, I answer back. 'Cause if you're elementary you're not uncomplicated. And simplicity, is the sum of a whole bunch of opposites.
Yes of course you say. If I had meant anything else with simple, I might as well have said dumb. I can hear your smile in your voice.
So I'm not dumb then? I giggle and turn around and stare right into your eyes.
I'm your pipe dream. That's just what I am. Be kind enough to remember that I say and slightly tug on your earlobe and turn around again. I can hear you laughing.
I am dumb I say.
Yes of course, you reply. And wise. After you've said those words you lay your hands around my waist, lift my hair aside and kiss my neck.
There are no dreamwomen for me. Only living. Like you.
And only then we realize that we are bigger than anything else right there, where the water meets the shore and greater than what we see.


(Calin 05/05/09)

LPWJ eng version 16/12/09