How we used to breathe starlight,
because I imagined there were no
clouds overhead: each cloud was
every exhalation of how this night
fails to end, how I keep dreaming
of a comet that would not fall
for me. Each dream counts the
number of breakfasts I’ve missed
and the number of swords I eat
during dinner; I counted ten
to completion, to end all wounds.
See: all I did was to feed myself
waiting for the sun to rise on set.
Category Archives: Dreams
Suiteroom – Take 4 (09/11/2019)
Everything was dark
when the room lights
were replaced by ifs –
what else can function
if all I do is compile
dreams? They come in
too hot, too fast loops
that defragment and
scatter all my drives:
how I overdosed on data,
strolled about the fibre,
and added and added.
Suiteroom – Take 3
Microsoft Windows [Version 10.0.17134.829]
(c) 2018 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
C:\Users\Lune>darken puddle
‘darken puddle’ is not recognized as an internal or external command,
operable program or batch file.
C:\Users\Lune>add tears
‘add tears’ is not recognized as an internal or external command,
operable program or batch file.
C:\Users\Lune>dose check
‘dose check’ is not recognized as an internal or external command,
operable program or batch file.
C:\Users\Lune>hot tea
‘hot tea’ is not recognized as an internal or external command,
operable program or batch file.
C:\Users\Lune>stroll room
‘stroll room’ is not recognized as an internal or external command,
operable program or batch file.
C:\Users\Lune>d:
D:\>cd Google Drive\Poetry
D:\Google Drive\Poetry>type Suiteroom_3.txt
Suiteroom – Take 1
And once you strolled
right into the dark of
my eyes. Two points:
you didn’t notice this;
or I needed to weep
something sharp, like a
teardrop. Seconds pass
like the daily dose of
longing. Hot iron is all I
cry nowadays, the kind
steaming on your table.
Your gaze found a lamp.
An Empty Barstool is Love
(after Pooja Nansi)
Dreaming on a Barstool: on an infinity
of regression of dreaming barstools; we
in a dream bar / you crafting cocktails for;
/meinatelegramcommand; @yourusername;
we watching Europe go by as art noveau;
two blue ticks consent to a means to an end;
4.00 / morning / bak chor mee / eyelids/lips;
poem for you soaked in vodka & tomorrow;
you opening whiskey an observer effect;
sizes A4 on the rocks, A3 shaken, A2 stirred;
one night, we went to a bar to drink water;
one day, we discovered alcohol to be water;
I woke up in a universe without dreams;
we watched the bartender set twin suns;
being-in-itself & being-for-itself, for myself.
Lune L. 