Dream 21-10-14
Without warning “they” begin renewing parts of my body, exchanging bits and pieces following a system I can't make head or tails of. I say “they” because I sense more than two hands but I can't see who or what they belong to. One pair of hands is working on my right lower leg. It rips out the pieces of muscle that has sorta made knots of themselves and feel sore. I watch gloved hands put in glass marbles in nice colours and toy soldiers (the kind you're meant to paint yourself) while the toes on my left foot are being capped with steel caps with claws that would fit a dragon's feet.
“How am I going to walk in those?” I ask.
“You aren't,” says a voice coming from who know where. “You are meant to fly!”
“Oh, well ...” I don't know what to say. Who doesn't want to be able to fly. “But I haven't got any wings.”
“Patience, boy, patience.”
steady rain it seems sleepless too
…
file date: October 21, 2014
Kommentarer
Send en kommentar