recurring dream

the view is a bit surreal
colors askew as if drugged
qualities of the motion slowed
yet hyped at the same time
a viewport into my dark matter
the fiber connections unlit until sleep
awakens her
amsterdam
hash
hostel
roy lichtenstein
and me
winding my way back
to the small unmarked door
i found myself lost
in a looking glass of canals
prostitutes
fear
yet the sun was shining
i was okay
for now
disoriented
alive
young
on a walkabout
a thin line
between sadness and awe
a smell of a city
boats music smoke neon rain
more like a movie by a director i love
all color and sound
lacking details or dialogue
i wander
wonder
full
on

alone

3-6-24

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