Words for Woeful Wednesday #2 — 11/23/16

There is something going on in my dreams

Last night I drifted on a sparkling green-glass sea: my sails unfurled, catching the wind — I grabbed a rope and maneuvered the boat into a bay clogged with sunbathers on inflatable rafts, belly up like frogs on lily pads pinned out for dissection. I sailed through, around some, over a few, until someone shouted, “You don’t know what you’re doing!” and I answered, “No, but I am doing it.”

The night before, I’d danced, silently and for myself, slowly turning round and round in a grey taffeta dress trimmed in rickrack — rows of red, orange and yellow — the sheen of the fabric, the bright lines of color coming out of the darkness and into view briefly before disappearing back into the shadows.

 

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