Two Dreams

Alex Mascarenhas's picture


The dreams are swift, she leaps, lands, throws her skirt
In bed adrift, unconsciously alert
I shut my eyes, I don’t cease to live
Embrace her thighs, smell her smell, forgive
Seems vague, yet I can tell –- there is a writing on the wall
Heaven’s down, up is hell, trendy ultimatums, wail, bawl
Next, I’m packing; voices, unheard thoughts through unseen eyes
I will not roll a Royce, she will not bound for east fly
Two dreams, two Margarets, as many as you can fit in one night
Rather kind self-portrait, as long as away from the shining knight
A dozen sweet dreams, a dime a dozen, grime, a dozen Margarets
Drown, paddling upstream, dive in a coven, slyly cozened, cigarettes
Hear, hear! To the many unfaces seen
And a salute to the unheard eyes
Her blood turns clear, runs backward, gelatin
Lady and gent, now say your goodbyes
Say what you will, yet won’t say it aloud
The unseen is, yes, in sight, plain
The moon flushes, steals behind a close cloud
The tracks lead nowhere, board the train

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