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I dream hard and often.

Tell me about your sleep.
Do you ever laugh or cry yourself
into hopeless,
WONDERFUL
oblivion?

Are you honest in your dreams?

Do we ever meet
as comfortable strangers
at random intervals
out there -
in there -
as ghosts among nebulous tendrils
and wild particle foliage?

Is the silence ever shattered
by pure sonic shock?

Do the imps run rampant
in pure static siren songs?

(Caressed into complete catatonic
submission.
Driven by dementia and
ravenous devil-appetites,
loose in the woods and running...
wild, free - mad.
Naked, raging and writhing in
BLISS.)

Once I had this dream.
Once this dream had me.

There I was,
I was there.
Stimulated yet somehow
sick and distant.

There I was among meat,
and each piece held a mind
buried in bone and barren vacant lots.

So bloody beautiful,
so ugly and obvious -
stark, fleshy shame staining the facade.

...and still I stood transfixed.
Mesmerized, immortal.
Seduced by the wonder of those brains,

as if each skull held mystery
and simple, radiant truth.