When I was a child I would dream
I would leave my body and sit in a stable and stare at a chestnut horse
In its stall tame and tethered
Eye would observe from a corner in the dark
Empathy and stillness were the horse
dark coat
black eyes
I felt calm as the earth
Unsure if it longed to be free
Unsure if it minded I was there
When I was a child
Rockets, Pez and black rubber washers
were food to mother’s 8-track
Eye thought it needed them
Really it just wanted to play music
Sing from it’s mouth of rectangle
When I was a teen I dreamed of a man at the mouth of a cave
He handed me an orange
It was too soon
I wanted satsuma and orange crush
Something soft and sweet to call my own when I needed reminding of Heart
It was comforting and yet didn’t feel quite right
Eye came of age,
Dreams changed
Darkest night took hold of Heart once more
Right had its clutches
I lay in bed
My childhood home
Left tried to take me out the window
To deliver me with freedom
I said tine
Speak to New
I found the walls of my bedroom
A mirror and a camera
Eye held the window frame with all its might
When Eye was Art Deco, I found Heart
My dreams became golden trains passing through my dwelling
An entirely other of gold waving their hand
I waved back and it felt like a friend
Later I dreamed of Other
Take off my ring,
I wasn’t ready
I didn’t understand what Other was asking so they left again
The darkness returned
It felt like 109 people and all I yearned for was one
The evil clowns made their appearance
My lover was Skikda and fire for my pet
They set my home aflame as an old woman observed with her head veiled in black and orange in the hallway
I picked myself back up
Gingerly
Gathered my shades of pink
The fruit I loved that didn’t taste or feel quite right
My descent was without the three second rule
I’d find new ones when Eye was safe
Made of roses with other flowers changing color and shape
Years would pass like a prison sentence
Minimum security with community service
The towers were still on fire
Eye put on my sunglasses
brushed off the ashes of my clothes
No
Stop, drop, and roll
No
Calling Paw Patrol
I returned to sleepyhead
Burdensome and burdened
Sometimes I’d wake back up
Bury noisy visions
What I needed was found in crystal clarity
A name I couldn’t remember
Eye climbed mountains as the goat
Mined depths tangled in tree roots
Looking for diamonds as I descended
I listened to Heart speak
The name I had forgotten
She bled like Ophelia
Wandered like Goldilocks the Vagrant
A fork with two paths astray
To the left of the fork
rivers gushed
Too powerful
the damned cracked and then broke away
To the right of the fork
A young girl in a blue dress
white apron front
Tasting porridge
Napping in beds that weren’t her own.
She sat in chairs that belonged to someone else and made a mess
Dressings and taps flowed like water in the House of Bears
Hot, cold
Finally, just right
Still not her own
The faucets kept running
The chair she loved in tattered remains
Still
She searched for the valve to the tap that fit
Jumping through windows instead of out the door
Progression happened with less frequency
The drive was still there
To find where Corporeal held their coordinates
I called her name
She turned toward me
Couldn’t yet meet Eye
The moss and earth of the forest held her attention
She hid down a rabbit hole
Thoughts of greener grass
Cats ruling domains posed for a picture
Existential questions created riddles
A Gotham villain with a sad and tragic backstory
She tried to fly again
A bird inside its cage
door open
Garden from the window viewed
Pane too recently cleaned
Glass used to knock with her head
I called to Heart again
Like a snowbird following compass, she turned
Still interferent
A bowl of shredded wheat
Recognition, exasperation
Exhausted, panicked
Breathe
Eye reminds her
Breath slowly
Releasing tamer demons rattling Theoi’s cage
Duality with a tin cup
On the bars they make their cells known and she turns this time toward me
I call Heart and she listens
She writes
She creates
She returns to Crete
I wait there and hold her gaze with knowing
With Eye
Worshipping at the temple once again
A key to her own sacred self
There’s a lockbox she can see in the form of my hands
She re-wilds
Pets the wolves while I re-wild and create with her
Holding light and dark
Emerging as a new shape
Reborn and Baptized
water, flame, earth, aether
9 spheres connected to 10
Pelt in paradox
Steam from the water
Fog form to clouds
With evaporation and Eye
Morning light blue, less grey
In the indigo of the moon
Mists of Psyche and Nyx
rebuilt and recycled from air
For Soul
For Other
For Purpose