I DreamThey say that when I was born I came into the world asleep. The doctors were concerned but my mother wasn't. She said, "Let him dream."
and I did.
I dreamt of you. I dreamt of the distance between us and how much I wanted to fold the pages of my life and skip ahead--to read the chapter that starts with us, but in this dream you were only a memory. And as a memory I could not be sure if what I envisioned was truly you, or an interpretation guided by an obsession.
So I kept dreaming. Diving deeper into my subconscious, to keep the colors fresh, but when you stepped out of the painting I didn't recognize you.
Let him dream. Let him dream.
I dreamt and found that you were a stranger. And you were beautiful for it. Radiant. Perfect.
And in my deep sleep I lifted you up, higher than the stars until I could not see you. I waited for centuries. I thought you might come down, but eventually I grew tired. My eyes fell. And a dream unfurled within this one.
You were not in this dream. There was only me. And in the darkness I searched for a way out, searched for you.
But let him dream...let him dream.
And I am still dreaming.
Still caught within the sands. Waiting for this one to end, so I may finish the other. Waiting for the mantra to stop. For you to wake me. To save me.
let him dream.
Just let him dream.