ONLY THIS
NARCOLEPTIC
DREAM
I am running with the mountains, which are not
really mountains, instead just highland groves of
trees where little people live. When I was young,
my first and most recurring dream was about myself,
living inside of a huge, hollow oak tree. Spacious, with
presence and warmth, it seemed to take me in as much
as it seemed, as well, to be me. I came back to it time
and again. And then, another - I was witness to a
landing of Martians who'd infiltrate the Earth, and
with little metal discs implanted behind their ears,
had super-powers I'd not heard of before. I was not
one of them, just an outside stranger, watching in.
In either of these situations, no words were ever
spoken : just scenery and dream-like scapes of
oddly happenstance occurrences. I took part
in my mind, but my 'real' me too knew well
I wasn't there. Like a screen, projecting
something else, while I kept watching.
There was always another being
over my shoulder somewhere.
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