Tonight I want to dream of warmth from ovens and blankets underneath constellations because I sleep under the city lights with the air conditioner turned all the way up. I want to dream of a welcome escape not a wrench thrown into the fading blueprints of eternity. I want to dream of being abandoned and then of being found on familiar ground because right now I am standing on a precipice, being forced to look forwards to a future where I can see nothing I am looking forward to. My dreamscape is a barren wasteland of climbing sand dune after sand dune to reach an oasis even I know is imaginary.
And the sun in my eyes is painful so tonight when I close them I want to swim with the birds that float underneath thunderclouds. Their feathers soaked and dripping yet they glide gracefully, undeterred by the constant pelting. Chinese water torture. I want to know their secrets because they transform from tar colored crows to exotic songbirds as they pass through the mist, meanwhile I remain, drenched.