I look at my fingers against the squares of window light,
now tilted diamond brightnesses on the wall,
and think back to my dreams--
a birthday party with 10,000 donuts
in rows of reinforced pillars like an eatable abacus,
and a pine tree on the center of the cake,
the fresh green growths in flames--
My breath to blow a tree out
wakes me up in heaving whale boat rhythms,
chest mounting the waves, and settling in the wakes,
while my stomach holds steady from a wide empty inside.
The path of light in the room is as clear in those first moments of wakefulness
as looking up through water from within it,
a brightspot entrance circulating towards darkness.
Could you be just waking up right now,
and the sun showing delicate blue veins,
shining into dreams through your closed eyelids?
posted by Liza 25.6.03