The sweet song of the humming computer
Follows me into the corner of the room in my dream
Where I curl up and wake
To the softly rising sun in the west.

The sun gives no light;
It can’t decide whether to sing or not
Can’t decide whether to be real today.
I look to the half-light of the West
And back to the door in the corner of the room in my dream.

The door is black and deep and dark
And warm and inviting
With the smell of comfort and mystery
In air that I cannot breathe.

I follow the open door
And don’t amend the smell –
The smell of the nonexistent air
The smell I follow through the doors of my dreams.

And I follow and follow
Up stairs and through long halls underground
The feeling of the substance around me, the substance of the dream
Calling me to my friends and the memories in the future
The memories that are falling asleep, the memories
I want to wake
And drown with the light and rush of my lungs this morning.

The morning doesn’t exist.
The morning is afar away, in a different world, that a different me
Will never see again.
The morning is coming far too quickly,
But it doesn’t exist, and so I fear not and follow the door.

Think not.
Breathe not.
Sleep not.
Amend not.

I follow. Sleeplessly, feellessly,
Like a ghost in the corridors of sunless memory.
There is no dark.
We are lit by the days that are
In the air
That is not air
The feeling, the smell, of swimming
In body-temperature water
There is nothing to feel
To breathe
Or smell
But the dream around you
And your soul, at home, holds you back from breathing in too deeply.

A new place, slipping into the water
In a different form this time
--- but I have no form
I am all forms
The seal, the otter, the water-air around me
Swimming through and catching the flashing fish
The silver, sweet, tasteless, flashing fish
Imprints of glittering eyes that I dart after in my dreams.

A person.
Standing.
In the background.

Hello. I can see you.
You are blind?
Ah. We are all blind here. I see you in one guise, you see me in another.
I am the air.
I am the water.
I am that smell, that feel of feeling the dream
The clear mist around you
A bubble of translucent warmth without temperature

I am your silver flashing fish
I am your breathless dawn
I am your setting, rising sun
And I would give anything
To know who you are.