Mine and yours. Our faces fill the frame against a back ground which can only be described as a world map, the vintage detail of the lines stood out to me. much like we are lying on the world, made into one flat, two dimensional surface.
The first shot floats down to it's resting place. we're fixed on each other, grinning stupidly. even in my dream state I noticed how the lighting was perfect. how the sun light kissed your hair in the way that I knew it'd be warm to the touch, if only I could have put my finger in the center of a curl to watch it bounce like I've done on an occasion or two. My subconscious welled with pure peace as I watched almost like an outsider, this perfect dream scene.
next shot floats down. angles itself crookedly onto of the former photo. This shot, still you, still me. but we're one in a kiss. so pure. I bask in this reality. more frames fall. each unique in one way or another. then I wake. jolted by the sound of the alarm that I loathe. (why don't I ever change this tone) there I am, in a bed that seems foreign. Left to deconstruct my thoughts.
The world is always speaking to us. the dilemma lies in whether we slow down to notice.
At work, I meet man with a mustache that curls to such a fierce degree that I have to hold back my smile when I see him. He mentions that he teaches dream workshops. I inform that my lucid, vivid dreams seem to be something of my past. He says this can be remedied. Mustache man jots down a url of his website that I can assume is chalked full of his mysterious dream theories. I told him I wanted to start a dream journal. That being said. this marks my first public dream entry. (was not planned) this was initially only a post to paint an image of a dream that has burned my mind all day.
The closest I'll be to you...is it in my dreams??
I'll see you there
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