3:334:11And now,
6:06.What are you doing to me?
I run my hands over my face,
reassuring myself I’m here.
Wake. Water. Write.
Here we go again.
A recurring dream
that’s morphed into ritual.
One I’m not sure I know how to hold.
Dreams are like that.
They gnaw at you.
Begging you to pay attention.
To grasp the lines between lucid and obscure.
To find the through line w…
