scene from a film / seen from a film

Dunes

It is some kind of crossbreed, giraffe and hyena.  It's a sexual creature.  In any case, she's meant to have sex with it, I know that.  But she's so afraid.  Her fear is palpable.  It's an evil creature, it contains Satan.  

We drive carefully south.  As we reach the coast again, just past Santa Barbara, massive sand dunes cascade to the sea in all directions.  The shoreline is all inlets, the sand dunes mountainous out off the coast as well.  Suddenly, the weather is glorious.  The sand dunes are completely empty, and I am all alone.  I feel an unstoppable desire to park the car and walk naked across the beach for hours.  Who might I encounter? 

I am still just meters from the car, and the sky is turning red, brown, thick with foul smoke.  A fire burns out of sight.  The sea has gone completely calm.  There is some drastic need for escape now.  A huge bridge has sprung up out of the ground and water, forming a barrier to the equally massive airplane now on the beach, approaching take off.  I am both in the airplane, and watching it from up close on the shore, seeing it veer nearly 90 degrees, one wing pointing towards the sky, the other towards  sand.  I'm not sure if it intends to fly between the vertical legs of the bridge, or to swerve and swoosh, just barely missing it entirely.  I only know that it is flying without a pilot, empty, and entirely of its own volition. 

Words leak, bleeding into consciousness, saturating volition.  Words sneak up, shaping the will.  A feeling of comfort, like waking to partially opened curtains, reveals a gentle blue sky, spotted with even gentler clouds.

I get up, brush my teeth and drink my coffee, as usual.  I shower and drink another cup, as usual.  I've had my toast now, with rasberry jam.  You sit somewhere deep inside me, in some lost place.  I can't find it now.

I go out. I am with a wonderful group of people.  They are all fascinating, beautiful.  I feel sexually charged.  I am talking, they are talking, we are talking, We are exchanging energy  This is life.  Now I am living.  But I have forgotten something, and I must go back.  

I stare at my shoe, and my eyes cross.  Try as I might, I cannot uncross them.   My eyes are crossed, and this I cannot change.  I want to get up, to go somewhere, to do something, but crossed eyes are an impediment.  It is so difficult to know which object to avoid, and which to gravitate towards, when there two of them.  I try hard to uncross my eyes, and the trying wakes me.

I gaze at partially opened curtains, seeing a gentle blue sky.  I realize, with relief, it was a dream.  I shift my eyes, and in doing so, I realize my eyes are crossed, again.

mangosteen

are delicious

I am awake.  My eyes are open.

I see my arms, strectching out in front of me, culminating in my hands, fingers obscured by knuckles.

Resting on familiar pumpkin orange sheets.  

The curtains are open, as usual.

I am awake.

I try to move my arms. They don't move.

They are immobile.

They don't move. I try to move my arms.

They don't move.

I am awake.  My eyes are open.

I see my arms, strectching out in front of me, culminating in my hands, fingers obscured by knuckles.

Resting on familiar pumpkin orange sheets.  

The curtains are open, as usual.

I am awake.

I try to move my arms. They don't move.

They are immobile Their immobility pulls me

back into my latent dream.

I am dreaming. I must use my dream arms.

I use my dream arms.  My eyes are open.

I see my arms, strectching out in front of me, culminating in my hands, fingers obscured by knuckles.

Resting on familiar pumpkin orange sheets.  

The curtains are open, as usual.  I use my dreams arms, to pick up my awake arms

and I shake them.  I see my arms, shaking.

Shaking, on familiar pumkin orange sheets.

The curtains are open as usual.

I am awake.  I get up.