It’s that kind of dream that keeps running in and out of your head all day, but fades a little bit every time. A detail lost each time you try to recall it and wonder about the meaning of it. At the end of the day most of the dream is lost and all you have left is how it made you feel; scared, or happy or sad, maybe in love or burning with hate, anguish or victory. And you ask yourself why your subconscious pulled out of its hat this particular dream and why it wanted you to feel like this.
It is ten o’clock in the morning and I can still taste my dream as it lingers, like mist before my eyes, like a movie shown over and over again. At the tip of my tongue it tastes sweet, but becomes somewhat bitter the more I taste it. The warm, swelling feeling of love is replaced by wonder. Why did I dream this? Does my subconscious feel the need to mock me with what I can’t have? Or is it telling me to be patient, it will come?
I still feel its weight in my arms as I reach for it.
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