The succession of time.

by Poet on the Piano   Apr 10, 2022

I've been here before,
but I couldn't tell you
the latitude or longitude.
Gardenias and begonias
outline the drive, and I
suddenly find a Canon AE-1
in my hands, though how
can I photograph a
dream within a dream?
I sneak around the mansion,
past lush side gardens, to
multiple pools waiting
to be adored in the heat.
The sun warms my stomach
and fine fescue as soft as
cashmere tickles the nape of
my neck while I gaze at
the shimmering water.
Fresh juniper travels in a
breeze that calls me by
my new name;
everyone accepts me here.
I am made of the same flesh,
am recognizable by voice,
but feel at home in a body
I used to ambush.
Somewhere, my father
is bent over an escritoire desk,
memorializing his vulnerability,
my grandfather watching the
birds and documenting their
characteristics, his lavender
vanilla musk a scent I could
never quite recapture.
I won't be able to stay here
long, and I hope this dream
won't collapse inside itself.
I need somewhere to return,
when the thread of my reality
tries to threaten my existence.


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Latest Comments

  • 2 years ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Love this. It made me feel like I was swirling inside the dream too. The visuals are brilliant. Milly x

  • 2 years ago

    by Kate

    I… ugh. This is incredible, unbelievable. I am jealous of your skills. The visions this has placed in my head. The softness. I added to my favorites before I even finished it. Well done.

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