In the morning basement dark light i pull back my sheets, and surprise, surprise I'm naked. sometimes i take a strength from this as it reminds me that i am that i am and to wear myself proudly. sometimes i take a come on from this and need to come on myself before i leave bed to shower shave shit and piss. and sometimes, sometimes when i dream of, her, it takes a moment to assure myself that im not still dreaming because thats how real she still is in my subconscious. and quite honestly, lately, when i realize that im not still dreaming. i just feel relieved, because there is a big difference between what the dreams of her used to be like and how the dreams of her now, just pierce my heart like a spike. not even a spike because there being a spike implies that something foreign has taken place inside me. if there ever was a spike it resided in the beautiful dreams i used to have about her where i would wake in the morning with a warming glow inside like a horseshoe still in the fire before the blacksmith removes it to shape the steel into something any equus would be proud to wear. but now when i dream of her, there is no spike, no horseshoe, no fire, no foreign anything. now when i dream of her, upon my waking my heart slowly transfigures from a beating organ into a beaten empty furnace left behind by the blacksmith when he packed up shop and left to move on in search of more fertile soils and more lucrative and populated villages.
when i used to dream of her the skies were made of fire and she walked through the ruins of scorched cities, alone, strong and eyes sharp. she would walk to the highest point she could find, be it the blown wide upper floors of downtown office buildings or a grassy cliff jutting from sloping hillsides. she would look out from these points scanning the horizons, and wait til a large grey wolf found its way to her. when the wolf found her his ears would perk his tongue would hang out and he would pant happily. she would kneel down hold the sides of the wolf's head and under a sky of fire we would look into each other's eyes forever.
now, my dreams of her are crowded scattered schizophrenic apparitions full of strangers who hollar with no cause. she is always distracted by the presence of others or never notices that i'm even there though we are always within arms reach of one another, we never make eye contact and we never touch.
when i have waking thoughts of her they are always of hope, understanding, and love.
when i day dream of her she is simply a silhouette in the distance walking towards me. even when we get close enough to see each other's faces clearly we do not pick up pace we simply smile as the space between us lessens. at arms reach we both stop walking. she reaches out to hold my arms or maybe my shoulders. i reach out for her waist or to graze her chin with the back of my index finger as if i almost dont even believe shes standing right in front of me. we embrace and she tells me she loves me. i reply with three words each said twice " and i you...and i you."
whenever i dream of her, day dream of her, or simply think of her throughout the day they are always abstract shapes of hope, understanding and love that I engage and hold for only a moment before I close my eyes, take a breath, and just, let, go.
