They’re just sitting there looking forward looking ahead the world seems to be spinning the sky blue moving like time lapsed photography he’d seen stuff like that on television before but never in a dream his hands are on his knees holding himself in from running out of things to say hers are crossed legs out they seem complacent she seemed relaxed
She punches him in the arm he wakes up
He stands confused looking around the room for her she is in a grey cocktail dress made of silk she holds two drinks out knowing there is a good possibility she will stain the fabric he knows she’s there it’s a feeling he has she knows he has arrived it’s a feeling she has she smiles as she turns to catch his eye he blinks and she is gone on the ground are two smashed glasses bleeding to death in a pool of vodka the busboy bends down to clean the floor his tail pops out of his pants he is not real but the emptiness is
he walks up from behind and smells her hair it smells like sunshine the day is grey but she lights up the world he breaths his breath warms him inspiring color to paint his imagination like a muse to a writer she whispers “it due” as he reaches out his hands and grabs her from behind filling his hands with her she spins it’s not her he spins she returns they bow to each other and dance she spins he bows she walks away he is awoken
Spread out over weeks she was no longer there an affair in full color slipped back into black and white the lines no longer blurred all point in the same direction what should have been torture turned out to be the best sleep he’d had in a long time
He sat in the boat fishing he doesn’t fish he pulls out bait it’s a baby he cast into the endless water and waits then pulls out a child from the water unhooks it and drops it on the bottom of his boat reaching for more bait the child becomes a woman she hands him his reflection in the water he is old and grey retired and tired he opens up the bait box and pulls out another baby cradling it in his arms until it is a grown woman another muse
He is alone and doesn’t remember the dreams from this point on she is gone at least for now
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An ex-copywriter turned punk rock pastor and peacemaker who dedicates his life to making the world a better place for all humanity.
"that they all might be one" ~John 17:21
“Prius vita quam doctrina.”
~ St. Thomas Aquinas (1225–1274)
* “Life is more important than doctrine.”