In a dream I spoke to her dream, she whispered to me that her dream is but a dream, and that to really commune with her I must enter the dream. Entering the dream, the dream spoke to my soul in a thousand tongues, whispered to me a thousand fantasies, and promised me that I would come back again and again to speak to her.

I lay still. Tuning out distractions, my eyes remain closed. My breathing is relaxed. Letting the subconscious linger at dreams edge. Letting the conscious see the dream so that I might remember.

I see the dream form around me. Locks opened. Objects levitate. I fly through the air from off of a peaked mountain. I swung from trees whose heights the planet Earth has not seen in two hundred thousand years or more. Swinging from branch to branch, monkey like.

Pyro-kinetic, electric, magnetic, all energy forms easily manipulated. Summoning lovers, friends, foes and allies. Bringing any character imaginable into the dream. Sex of all kinds. Consciously choosing every factor of the dream. Aware in the dream that it is but a dream. A dream. A dream.

Into the tunnels swerving curving walls. Some huge subterranean septic system running hither and amok through the earth. Forced along corridor after corridor, piece after piece of my life unfolding before my eyes. The movie playing in my head faster and faster still. What byways and dead end corners have I taken and those that I have not taken. The propulsion seems to intensify as I see light ahead. Then from the pipe I am shot out into a waterfall’s free fall into a calm pool beneath. I awaken shaking, sweating, my heart thrumming. Just a dream. Just a dream.

I drift off again.

The train sweeps past me. I know that if I chose I could just hop right on. Yet the faces staring out the train’s dusty dingy windows seem seem so sullen eyed and listless. Their eyes shifting aimlessly, so vacantly. Before me the train sweeps by. Kicking at the stones next to the tracks I begin humming a faint little ditty to myself. I know another train will come and all that I must do is wait.

The train never came that day, or the next. So I waited and waited. Thirst quenched on scorpion venom with nightly deliriums giving rise to greet howling coyotes bellowing their yips to the seamless shadow of night’s symphony.