Sleep beckons once more,
As your energy finally yields,
And the caress of sleep warmly coalesces,
The whirr of a projector flares up,
And the minds eye takes stock,
Takes note of the commencing slideshow,
Memories shown in amber light,

Images of your past indeed,
But somehow distorted by chronology,
Actions you don’t remember playing out,
Conversations turned on their heads,
Actors swapped betwixt,
Good times blended with horrid,
Colours of emotions besmirched with dust,

As the projection clicks on,
As your eyes strain in the dark,
You doubt the veracity of what you see,
Of what your mind believes,
Are they truly the past?
Or is this show imaginary?
What you wished had happened instead?

Comments
  1. shauna says:

    I have been experiencing strange dreams lately. Not sure if it relates to my allergy medicines or stress (or both.) But this describes my unsettled feelings when I awaken and remember fragments from this dreams.

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