Dream Recall
August 2023
My hair is always short in my dreams
I wake up even more charged from static, having raced throughout so many settings and ceilings
Confused on my mission and drenched from excavating new fears
Dusty and puzzled, i shake hands with brittle archaeology
My most recent dig was a trip to the hair salon; i don’t remember the context but i can still feel the split ends cascading down my neck
I shift my weight above the memory-foamed pleather
I can hear large scissors hovering around my back
Inanimate but buzzing with matter, sharp + cold + confident
The scissors make the decisions for me, a veteran hairstylist
The mirrors surrounding us lend me the sight to witness its soul-purpose
An angular dance, constant, slicing through the thick air
—in its Fixed structure and large in shadow, my own distinctive angel wings
Very fairylike in its distancing—
i recall this dream of mine at the local poem event, a safe space to drift off and wander
Occasionally tuning back into sessions where I try to seek out their own recurring dreams from their oral recitings from leaflets— the current poet of the hour
Unless they’ve stated it, almost all poems can be insightful of the reciter’s dreams
and their vulnerabilities glisten in the air to age you
It’s weird having gathered here
a bundle of introverts coming together and quietly freaking out at how quiet it can truly get
A moment we are all too familiar with but locked in its trance of best behavior
Sitting, listening, as if I’ve been frozen since middle school
Recieving an introduction that causes listeners to creep up toward the saliva-drenched mic
i follow the flow of wires like listening to a river
& as people laugh at A joke I remember we as people can laugh
But me as a person have drifted away from the one-sided conversation, yet again
Processing, if it was even funny. If it was worth it to break out of my scheduled inhale-exhale breathing to confirm
Laughter as a signaling of being here 😍
The diminishing of individualism- the feeling of community
The upgrade that only greets me when outside + in the sun
I think I get it now
Introverts can be funny, and I wonder if i’ve been projecting all onto what is seen
Like if those quiet beside me fail to share the introverted babble that is ongoing & able to be muted but you still see the subtitles near the peripheral
Like if they really listen and i’m too inward to face the sensitivities of the external
I am working on my projections, im not beating the project manager allegations
There is more work to do but it’s never the type who asks more of me, the lining of my internals,
A dispenser of credibility, seeping of professionalism,
This moment asks less of me
A more quiet approach to life
A walking barefoot on gravel, angry – as to where the grass resides
Maybe this is what dream recall is all about, reminders of chores
Daring you to deny and drift off yet again.