Of a Dream, Think

I'm getting sleepy. I should sleep.

(No.) There's so much you'll miss — I need to speak.

You'll chase my sleep away. (Quiet.) You'll break my dream.

If you sleep, you'll miss life — You'll search your yesterday in deep.

(Or maybe I'll finally see it.)

 

What if you see in dreams the things you dread?

What if I flee from what's inside my head? (Who knows?)

Think of a dream, how beautiful and deep. (Stop thinking.)

I'll sleep; you fall for traps while I'm asleep.

Maybe you're sleeping now — maybe this is your dream.

(Or maybe this is waking.)

 

Between real and real, a fall that takes the night to dawn.

(Hush! I just want sleep.)

A fall you see within your dream.

A dream you see while falling deep.

(Don't fall.)

(You always do.)

In front of endless mirrors: you.

At the edge — you.

Inside — still you.

(No one else.)

In day, in night, in dream, in fall,

alone, untouched, only you at all.

 

You chose the loneliness. You said sleep. (yet) Dreams come plural; nightmares singular and deep— you alone, in solitude. (Always you.) Only you.

The place you fled from

is where you arrive to.

(There was nowhere else.)

 

This is being lost. A fall without control. (You let go.) The unknown — and you.

That's all. (Isn't it enough?)

Alone in solitude. Only you.

 

The fall between the end of a line

and where the next paragraph began.

(the final dot.)

Hitting the bottom.

You saw the end.

It's over.

(Death.)

 

Only,

Forever you.