Sweven

Non lucid dreams from August 24th


The Falls
Speed a desert highway. Road switches to stream. Nearly drive off a dead-end, a waterfall roaring down into a misty eternity. In the shallows laughs little cousin. Brother, despising any hints of happiness, shoves her. Both fumble to the edge. Cousin dodges. Brother slips. He slides and grips for dear life. All souls see. Not one soul shifts to save him. Mother's sings wasted threats.

Round Room
Round rooms sweeten whispers. I dare not speak. Sneak through throngs of artists, poets, and players. Spiral through a sea of bold, bright vitality. Don't want to contaminate them with the dim shallows of my soul. I am found. Cheered to sing until my song silvers with molten full moon grace. This IS my place.