Something About Red Tulips
Your hand. As I sleep. Or do I dream. Is it your dream, or mine, or am I the voyeur, watching someone else’s dream. In your stories I am undressed, and so I dress in their stories. Patterned and purple. As night wants to be me … and awake. For your hand. Again. As I sleep. On a long sweep of a marble-white thigh. And there is a roll of heat, and red tulips, and the lines wash away in a simmering seethe. Was it you who said, I love you. Or was that, too, a dream.
For dVerse Prosery: Include the line “I dress in their stories patterned and purple as night” from “When We Sing of Might” by Kimberly Blaeser. Prosery 144 words max. ©Misky 2021 Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash The Rape of Proserpina, Rome, Italy.