DALI DREAMS

Everytime I try to sleep, a

dark wind blows through me,

its airy arms loaded with

gales of chaos, someone’s

cackling laughter, a knock

at the door of a back corner

room I’d forget, if I could.

No! The wind is brazen

eyes full of harm, n*****s

hard as river pebbles, thighs

of cracked marble, she is

forever the succubus, never

satisfied with mere blood,

always a lurking darkness

buried under these pillows.

I’ve read they say the past

is as indeterminate as the

future, but it is her homeland,

as is tomorrow. Under the

hopeful sun, she has no

place, but what a beauty

she would be, a golden-hued

Siren whose plush lips

whisper, “just you wait.”

Reviews

[Thomas W Case]

Powerful work. Superb imagery.

[Vol]

Thomas,
Thanks, man.
Vol