O Sister—last night I had a dream. It danced through
my skull in volts of blue—like the haze of a comet smearing its tail
across the sky until stars distort to fragments so frail
beneath the blankets of dust that your fingertips could tear into
their pulp—ripping them apart like papyrus. & last night we whipped
across the turnpike like rattlesnakes—the smog that trailed
behind us was gorgeous, thick, like ripples in sand. & we sailed
until our skin began to wither—& finally you tripped—
fell from the car the way decaying petals of an orchid drip
to the ground to rot—& your limbs were like wisteria
tossing its flowers through the air while the sun painted your lips—
caking them in shades of jade—& you laughed with the deliria
I watched drizzling down your brow while you lay in the dust
that swirled in sunset colors tinged with chemicals around us.
& Sister, please—what can I do about my dreams?