Dreaming Again

Or Recording Again.

Why do I get such vivid dreams?
Stories that beckon being retold. Remembered, and retold
remembered, redrawn and retold.

She was set apart for time.
I for blood.
By the geometric, spherical, mass.

It hovered in the air,
captivating all those pedestrians milling about.
A suspenseful moment, an expected surprise.
Why did we feel as if it had just been a matter of time.
Or was it Just me?

This globe, with repeated and reflective
cuts and crevices.
Man-made in semblance- it must be!
but wasn't.
clearly couldn't be.

Illuminescent, yet cloudlike.
White and silver.
reflecting light that wasn't it's to reflect

Shocked, we all stood,
staring at it, speechless
yet murmurs also circled through the air.

Why did we know to be cautious toward it?
Who recognized it?
or was it just me?

As if it was almost supposed to be,
just not be here.
It moved carefully and so did our gaze

"there it is do you see it now? It's still there! Except that now it looks as if it's part of that building's architecture! ha-ha! See it's still the-"

It...evaporated. . ?
into thin 3 -4 slivers of itself.
still hanging there, then flying.

feathers? thinnest white feathers,
just one or two, maybe 3
floating, but not just down.

One feather sliver floated towards her
she didn't understand, she hadn't noticed it:TIME.
One towards me.

Can I escape it? I'll go up. Down,
Up, and up again.
No. It knows where I'll end up.

I don't think it reads my mind.
but just knows the future.
my future; my neck. BLOOD.

I start awake. 

January 3 2017