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...