Sunday, July 27, 2008

Bittersweet memories

Last night I had a dream, so real I expected my reality to be different when I left it. Among other things, I was at a writing workshop in some anonymous city, and found a dream-friend of mine who was there as well for other reasons. (I say "dream-friend" because I knew them well and recognized them in the dream, but was not able to recall the face afterwards.) Happy adventures and much laughter ensues. The dream ends on a bridge with a caress intended to get hair out of my face which then continued down my cheek. It was at that point that my alarm woke me (stupid alarm) and a moment later a driver outside my room lay on his horn. Not surprisingly, I was not able to return to the dream. Before I was able to recognize what was reality and was subconscious, I had this tumult of intense including feeling loved, feeling safe, feeling respected and yet protected, but still somehow sad with the realization that I couldn't have what I wanted - all with this level of intensity which surprised me for, you know, not being real. Perhaps I've spent too much time lost in my books and my daydreams, where love stories are told in ways that rarely happen in "the real world." Pity.

I heard a song for the first time the other day that I fell in love with. I think it may just be the inspiration for the dream. Drat Shawn Colvin. And yet, can it come again, only this time without the obnoxious driver and the interruption of NPR?


Venetian Blue

It still hasn't snowed in a lifetime
And I am still frozen in time
Where did you come from?
How could you leave
And why can't you be mine?

I'm caught in between a lifeline
And a love so deep I will drown
Let it pour like silver
In this empty room
And wear this memory down.

So come to me soon and I'll hold you
We'll be eye to eye, skin to skin
And I'll stroke the fire
Of this cruel December
Until I see you again.

Then I'll lay you down in May
I'll have my way with you
The water town
Is raining down
Pools of Venetian Blue

Let it pour like silver
In this empty room
Pools of Venetian Blue

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