let's suppose she is... hell...
      15 years my junior,
but i'd 4 more years to my
estimate...

            how we make daft
assurances
        in our interactions...

today i paid for it...
      being informed by a person
of live with...

'did you have a nightmare?'
'what?'
'yeah, you were groaning
and gnashing your teeth
and you fell out of bed.'
'i suppose so...
   i did wake up...
and i was on the floor...'

nightmares...
   the most potent ones i've found
always come with
the dreamer being
"seemingly"... blindfolded...

i don't have enough
digits on my fingers and my feet,
or limbs for that matter,
to count how many times
i've drank to a K.O.

      which is beside the point...
but it's nice...
  it's nice to be informed
of a nightmare...
   a nightmare than can
throw
you out of bed,
    having to wake up
on the floor
   and with closed eyed
make the body read
the unfamiliar Braille
of the wooden floor
rather than the pouch softness
of a bed...

i guess an interaction
with material
by someone who's
18+ years my junior
requires me to
    perform... penance...

guess this is what a heart
feels like
  stealing kisses from
prostitutes...
               some still
clung to their ancient
orthodoxy...
   some... one in particular...
giggled as if
we were both innocent
teenagers,
lying on the grass
in a park during summer...

maybe all nightmares
make their origins
in beauty...
                       a pristine
face... angelic...
    but it seems
the most effective nightmares
are with the dreamer
being "blindfolded"...
falling out of bed
from the inflicted convulsions...

to seek infantalism
in a belief in god...
      now... an ugly face
performing some sadistic
act is one thing,
bearable...
the prelude of pain
through the precursor
of an image of horror...

                 the beauty
of a god at its most despotic...
auditory hallucinations
aside:
       after a while
you just learn to live
with them...
              sometimes
made to stand: on prompt...

or...
    like the numbing
of the jaw...
                    and an
over-consciousness of
teeth...
   such an over-awareness
of teeth,
that a dream is nothing
more than an inspection
of your mouth...
      primarily
concerned with teeth...

back when a simple
shutting of the teeth...
chatter...

would leave me
experiencing
a quasi-epilespy...
the teeth would
shut against each
other like a striking
of a church bell...
  and then a sensational
pain would originate
in the teeth...

move down my body
into my intestines
constrict into
an inexorable
and excruciating pain
   which would catalyse
a spasm...
the rolling of the eyes...

    a whole *******
strobe-disco-light-metaphor
event...
    the kind of pain
that exhaust you,
puts you to sleep...
  not an annoying pain
that keeps you awake
like a toothache...
  a pain...
             that serves
out enough potency
to allow you to fall to sleep
exhausted...

            in memory?
that pain is like an ecstasy...
the closest i came
to reliving it
was via a byzantine chant...
    Δεύτε λαοί...

a dream that can throw
the dreamer from
the bed
             and onto the floor...
blindfolded,
having to hear
of the dream
                 from someone
already awake,
having heard groaning
and the gnashing of teeth;

aren't i just the luckiest
of all of my contemporaries.