It's Still Life

Sylvia Says …

in my dreams
I am quiet
aerial
full of secrets

and my eyes
are open
sleep is thin and light.
Dreams, too light of promise.

And don’t tell your secrets
to a dream, she says.
Rearrange them like feathers
like a madness.

Sylvia says
her dreams are starved eyes
that stole
all her secrets.

And Sylvia believes
the world is flat.

for dVerse “Name of a Rose” (and then write a poem). I chose the name Sylvia. Image by Rene Magritte 1936. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter