And I told her
'Your dreams, silver spun of shimmering strands,
intangible threads of transient thought
Cling
like spider silk.
Like spider silk,
A momentary annoyance to be ignored.'
"No," she says, then smiles, serene. "Your cynicism is like dark light, illuminating nothing. What can you see when blinded by the brightness of day? Dreams are the stars while the sun shines, the moon in the darkest night. Reflections of reality, they are what things could be."
But I
Like water running down stone
relentless say
'Dreams are of the waking night,
cobwebs in the pre-dawn mist.
Invisible in rising light,
why do you dream?'
I hiss.
And she laughs, dark like shadows within shadows and harsh with memories of the hurt of whiplash pain. Then she looks at me, her smile in place and her eyes mirors of mine.
Rainbows shatter, falling tinkling in shards of coloured glass. Her voice is soft and hard to heard when she whispers:
'I dream to escape reality.'
Author's Notes:
A rather strange piece. Basically, the story is about two people- 'I' and 'She'. 'She' really is very disillusioned, but she pretends to be innocent as she once was, a very long time ago. 'I' is nowhere near as cynical as 'She', and what 'I' is looking for is an innocent to reinforce 'I's fading dreams and ideals.
However 'I's plan backfires as 'I's continued questioning of 'She' causes her to break down. In the end 'She' recovers her composure, but 'I' becomes even more cynical than before because 'She' has proven to be a fake.
Care for a psychoanalysis? I think I could do a pretty good job.
^_^ *grin*
