A Voile Dream That's why it begins like that, in the middle of a dream ... in mid conversation ... me and a tiger who fell through a voile sky. And the tiger says, What do you see? And I say, summer milkiness and bramble thorns, days fit to embroider on silk, and rivers wanting for a wild plunge. And a Greek man. And the tiger says, How do you know he's Greek? And I say because if I created a Greek man, he'd look like that, and I'd want to keep my hand perpetually in his, and we'd sail away to Moab, away from storms and wars on a black brocade sea. And tiger curls his tongue across the surface of the river, and drinks and drinks and drinks until he dissolves back into that voile sky ... because no dream is ever fixed.
Written for Visual Verse’s September Anthology. Image by Image by Omar Musa. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter
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