Welcome to my world of dreams where imagination and reality, fancy and truth, laughter and tears move hand in hand. I will let you have a glimpse at the share of my own sky, sometimes sunshine bright, sometimes with dark cloud and gloomy rain. I am that memory which will remain with you as a serene glow of moonlight. I am that thought which will nurture your soul like a whisper of mountain breeze. I am that dream which will haunt your being like a ferocious gushing brook.
Coleridge, you fever bird You sang out last night!
As I lay closing the day like a book groping for a bookmark named sleep, you sang your grief.
Why do you cry like one possessed? It makes weird sounds against my window panes. A moist breeze blows I wiggle my toes, rearrange my sheets for warmth, my insomniac eyes long to watch your dream. Every now and then, I tap my veins to eavesdrop and hear the throbbing of my blood-flow checking for a rift through which a giant tree can grow building a nest for your Albatross. Your opium eyes sprout wings, beat on my breasts and I become a giant
tree building house for those lost dreams , comforting them to creep and climb my body.