Ace! Your prophetic skills are beckoned!

Day V:

Collective vices: Who cares. I just had a dream where I was in love.

In the three hours allocated for sleep between third shift and school, I dreamed of my angel, my lover, my universal dual.

She was with me. We were in a writers workshop full of hot lesbians who availed their tops. She was next to me. She made me so happy. Our waists were buttoned at the hip. We wrestled, we flirted, we held each other. We were one.

There was a swimming pool. People were moving furniture. Uncle Mike was orchestrating the movers where to put things marshalling his thin fingers in the direction of the Indian Sun. Both antique furniture and posh loveseats milled around the dream like bees agitated in an apiary.

Human beings kept cannon balling in the chlorine blue pool. They took off their clothes and they jumped into the neon blue pond reflected throughout the house of mirrors of my eternal consiousness.

But I held my angel. We sat at the lip of the pool. We left our clothes on. We occasionally splashed each other. we felt like one.

We were at peace.

The only person I recognized in the dream (besides Uncle Mike) was myself. I was five. I had cinamon bangs neatly clipped across my forehead. My five year old self was in the pool. My five finger year old self was wearing one of my dad's undershirts. The shirt was dampened considerably from my frolicking. I could see the little stubs of my five year old nipples.

I was looking at myself back at myself from two decades ago. I was with the girl of my dreams.
My dream angel. The scattered jigsawed fragment that fit perfectly into everything I lived for.

As in reality, strangers were everywhere. They not only knew me, but they knew her. They knew us. They knew how much she had meant to me. I had no clue who they were, but they kept addressing us as she smiled. she was flattered. I enjoyed watching her smile.

We got separeted in the end of the dream. I went back to Uncle Mike's house. The house was fraught with women I had never seen. They knew me. Apparently they were having either a bridal or child shower for my dream angel.

Only she wasn't there. I had to find her.

I left the house only in my socks. I ran down hill, over hard chunks of gravel, trying to find my dream angel. Even though I was running down hill, I could feel the hard gravel leave flecks in my feet.

I was running down hill and all these black boys were running up. Some were African tribesman with shiny chests and azure eyes and javelins. Some were athletes. They all had shiny black skin and I jostled their shoudlers as we past.

They didn't obstruct me. We were headed different in directions.

*

My alarm clock harshly shrilled into conciousness. That's the end of the dream. I was at Peace.

Before the dream convened however, just when I was closing my eyes, just as my mind was leaving the corporeal port, drifting into the blanket of sleep, I saw a shadow of my dream angel. I saw a silhouette. I saw her vividly. I saw her even more vividly in the shadow than I saw her in the dream (in the dream I saw her, but I mainly felt her)...

In this shadow, she was kissing the person she was with in real life. Kissing him on the side of the cheek. They seemed happy. She then kissed him again. Then her shadow left him sedated; breezed in my direction.

Then she took me to that place where I was happy. Our secret place, where we together, so happy, our limbs dangling and free....