Now you can read
it, weird dreams, not the kind of stuff I tend to write but…
Day-Dreamweaver.
She got up from the ground, it was
cold under her hands, lustrous.
The corridor wasn’t exactly lit, at
least she couldn’t detect any source of light.
Countless doors flanked it.
Onwards and backwards, its ends seemed to
multiply into the infinite. It was difficult to say as some white color guzzled
everything just a couple of steps ahead of her. It wasn’t fog, it was just
whiteness. It could have been some sort of blackness that, lacking any shade, could
not be dark enough or a toneless opacity, yet it was a white background like an
empty canvas. Perhaps it wasn’t fear, but she felt a deep concern.
That character vanished in a TV-like white
noise.
It’s no use to me.
And that white noise took over.
—He wrote a book, in the first page he
tells us how the general marches toward the fortress, in the other one he
describes his conquest in detail, plus, it has drawings. You can buy it for
only twenty euro.
White noise. I feel grateful, I guess.
—It always happened in situations as small
as myself, when they raped me, I always thought I needed those people because,
deep in my heart, I felt they were the only people in my life. Please, stop
touching me…
White noise. Another nightmare? It cannot
be worse.
—Do you want to be happy? Udov is for you!
You will be happy with only one dosage (until its effects expire). Nothing is
more attractive than happiness. Nude girls on the camera two, thanks!
White noise. At least this is only
disconcerting.
—XX is equal to woman and XY is equal to
man, now a bunch of biologists are not going to come here only to mess
everything up.
White Noise. Actually, I cannot possibly
know whether this is getting any better.
He or she is EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED,
you should have desired… Life will spank your ass. A sexy yet painful spank. Do
you like ropes, handcuffs? He shares your very tastes, you will never connect
like that with anybody else, unfortunately your ideal guy has none of the
relevant attributes, you forgot to ask for them and you must accept it: nobody
changed another person ever. It would be terrible thinking that someone can
save you from yourself, nobody deserves that weight on their shoulders. Just
join whatever you desire and whatever you need together like two hands giving
thanks.
Do you want to know the secret?
You are the heroine, nobody will save you,
that’s a tale crowded by dark consequences, a metaphor exploiting your fear of
loneliness so that you will share it with a miserable person. You are your
charming prince, your warrior, go out there and fight with all your might. The
word insight is the clue. Accept who you are, you won’t be able to accept the
others otherwise and nobody won a war against themselves. Is it bravery? Is
there even another option?
Those scars…
You’re a whisper in the breeze, a roar
flying swiftly with the wind.
I am a dreamweaver but in these times of
crystal dwellers, nobody remembers my power. I know I shouldn’t wake up, not
like this, not now.
You know how it’s done, you’ve done it
plenty of times, you only need to say the magic words.
The smell of mysteries slides on your skin
and that honey covering every interrogation mark gets spilled over dogma, the
world’s greenness wraps the lawn hidden in the curve of your lips, stemming
from underneath your feet. Autumn leaves reveal the dance of the wind and
you’re flowing through this warm feeling of two bodies that love each other in between
a hug, writing tenderness on their souls as eternity does on the rain.
This verse weaves a twilight burning fire
smell and that smile tastes like the best chocolate.
Because, if you think about it, the whole truth
fits in one single kiss.
You can do it now.
Wake up.
Day-Dreamweaver by
Marta Roussel Perla is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at
https://martarousselperla.blogspot.com/.
