Whoa, wait! You missed it.
Far seeing takes time. But then the vision hits like a lightning bolt.
Gorgon reflections within. Watch myself turn to stone.
Bang! The dreaming and the turning and the turning
Icicles stretch from back-length hair... I'm nowhere.
Slice! Through and through, the sword of Damocles breaks its thread.
Within the dream, water runs round and round your breast,
Exactly as airplanes and starships encircle your head.
Messages in bottles broken against mighty titans,
And lovers in titans broken against icicle mountains.
Should they find the lifeboats, they may follow me
Into the savage forests of the new world dreamscape.
Into the noble fictions of eastern papermongers.
Out of the blue event horizon and into the black lagoon,
Where unbroken titans nevertheless find their final resting places
On shelves above the fireplace in the house of yesterday.
Today and tomorrow intertwine like hands on a melting clock,
Then slide down the wall beside the fire
Over the smoldering coals;
Only to be rekindled as another yesterday.
But you sit, warm in the big chair.
Your face barely visible within the folds of a granny quilt.
Your mind tracing the history of every patch.
Your eyes glittering in the firelight.
What yesterdays do you see in the flames?
And what tomorrows?
Smirking like you know something I don't.