We are the great danger

A cycle is to an end
- the water says.
Let it be old grief,
I am so tired
I cannot cry,
small sadnesses
clump up inside me.

I've lost a shoe
walking the
flooded streets.
I was and am afraid.
My bones did and do ache.
None of these
stopped me.

We are the great danger. Psyche is the great danger. How important is to know something about it, but we know nothing about it. (Carl Jung)

Python

The reason why I very seldom
see you in dreams is simple:
I have little of you to build on.
We beat the odds walking side
by side on that beach in Kent,
I wish I could go back. But
it seems the mind makes the whole
dream-making thing random.
It's been a long time I learned
algorithm. Languages have
changed significantly since then.

Christmas morning

I wake up from dreaming
We still go to the same places.

We are now friends with different people
who will avoid confrontation
who won't stand for a challenge.

Your eyes search my stillness for discomfort
- there was never an answer
you couldn't draw out from my body -

my shoulders scream
I'm mad at you for parting
I'm mad at myself for waiting.

My knees confess
I wish you walked toward me
And occupied all the empty spaces.

Mind over mind

In a dream
I forget your face.

I've been seeing it so often
in people who are not you

I leave parts of you
in these strangers now,

shards of a broken past
I have walked across

and didn't hurt my feet
or heart.

I am no longer shaken
by the hearing of your name.

Wolffish-like

There is a deep sea creature
living the darkest
inside me.

It's regularly seen
playing
with my crocodile in the moat.

Sometimes I can't sleep.
I search the blackness
for the face of the monster

afraid to discover
it has
my eyes

afraid it
devours me
in a single bite.

In a dream the other night
it got so close
I nearly surrendered.

My arms and legs
so tired from the swimming.
My heart so dreadfully weak.

House of stairs

I had a dream
you lived in Escher's house
and like two kids
playing hide-and-seek,

I searched you
behind doors,
between sky and water,
inside mirrors.

I couldn't find you.
In Escher's living room,
you were another illusion,
my personal impossible.

Silver lining

I had a dream
I had your arms
around my waist
and I forgot who I was
for the four minutes
we danced to each other
simple, sweet chat
in quiet little steps
swaying around
our living room.

There was a song
none of us knew
the words for
and we laughed
and twirled
and there was love
one could read
on the other's touch,
the other's smiling eyes.
I didn't want to wake up.

On Walmer Beach

My first encounter
with the sea happened
in southeastern Kent.

Had there been other people
on the beach, I would have
felt foolish for crying.

The water and the sky,
a gray-blue mix
of quiet and solitude.

The spots of poppies
among the pebbles,
the smell of licorice.

On my first encounter
with the sea we sat speechless
across from each other.

There was calm,
timid love in the waves
for me.

(Last night I dreamed of the sea, which I don't know, for the first time.)

My best friend

he carries a shattered
sobbing me to bed
after a bad day

and tells me about this dream he had
where I lived in a colorful house
and happiness danced around me

and I was enough.

Jump

He had been trying to tell me something
I just fully understood when I
found him on the carpet, dried up.

In Gloucester, three years ago,
a goldfish survived for thirteen hours
after leaping out of his tank.

He was discovered and brought back.