A cross of sorts between last night’s dreams and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind… (Note to self: think of better title for this one.)

Was it you or Kate Winslet
chiding me about being vague?
Two LPs and a wedding dress later
we were headed home
’35 minutes? You got lucky!’
Now I’m trying to recapture the story
but it’s gone

We’re lost here along the inlet
a place we used to avoid like the plague
Has the dream sunk into this crater
to make way for the dome?
I hate feeling so unlucky
I hate it when the dream goes blurry
and moves on

I guess the dream needs an outlet
its own nouvelle vague
an image generator
to feed thoughts that roam
in hopes of getting lucky
that love means never feeling sorry
or getting it wrong

The set remains, draped in violet
waiting for the seed to find the egg
in this place, the incubator
where dreams are hatched and grown—
should they be so lucky—
so they never have to worry
when love comes along

(2 June 2016)