dream #1

I dreamt of bugs last night,
critters creeping in through a window
beside my bed, great big spiders and
some creature I couldn't name,
leaving the door open so he could leave again.
I dreamt of this place I'm in, the
foreignness I still feel, and
of the sun, salty water. 
In my dreams it is still a permanent vacation,
a safari in my bedroom, jungle
wilderness, with trees growing up
through the floor. 
It's not my home, it's theirs,
I'm only borrowing it.

I used to live on syrup,
bogged down by ideas
of love, other people's ideas
getting lost in performed feelings.
Now I leave it alone, I don't dream
on purpose, only when my body 
knows I've stopped listening.
Then I wake up so sure of who I love,
so sure of how I need to change,
but I'm conscious again,
in a world I don't belong in.

April 2023