The Dream

You grabbed my arm, hissed I love you then bent your body to kiss me so hard I could feel the cliff of bone holding your perfect bottom teeth. I had no choice but to fall back, open my mouth to yours and hear in that yawn of lips, myself opening, hear the full rush of the Irish Sea pounding against a shore of rock and fortress.

And – as suddenly – it was over.
I was standing upright – alone –
the water still ringing in my ears.

If Gestalt is right and every figure in our dreams is merely an extension of self, then why did my mind reach half way around the world to a shore I have seen only once? Why not the Pacific – where you, as myself, are – warm and blue? And why would I choose you, as myself, to love me, to force me into a kiss I cannot give back? And why did you, as myself, say I love you at all, without waiting for my response?

I have thought of you, as yourself, all day, wondering at your dreams, wondering if I appeared, as yourself, to take you to the Irish Sea….