Theatre,
a five-star hotel, a ballroom,
dim, moody lighting,
seating going out into the hallways,
huge and convoluted,
can't see the stage, only diagonal corners of walls,
in fact, can't see ahead at all, only besides—
my hallucinatory friends and you.
Calm bustle, a cocktail bar nearby,
I know I'm dreaming, is this what they call
a lucid dream? I get up, leave the show
and bustle, and go to sleep,
not looking to wake up.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment