Rocking The Boat


Here is another snippet of one of the larger pieces I am working on, working title, The Thunderbirds. You can find more  by clicking on that tag/category. At this point it is not necessary to read these in any particular order, but you can read this as post #2.


The second dream is unpredictable. It is always the same dream but elements change. I dream I as sleeping in a boat on the water. As in the first dream, the light is soft and blue. The world is hazy but as I wake up, in the dream, things came into a sharper focus and the light becomes whiter, brighter, scraping at my eyes a little. I am both an observer and a participant. My vantage changes. At moments I am in the boat. At times I am watching myself from a short distance away.

Rocking gently, the vessel serves as a cradle. I feel cozy, content and slowly I become aware of the arms that embrace me, a warm, firm body at my back curved with mine, like two embryos spooning. I stretch and sit up, turning to face my lover who is also waking. I take in his face. He is younger than I, with the slightly weathered look of someone who has spent a fair amount of time outdoors, but not so much that it has leathered him. He is strong and wiry, with a hint of a beard, a bit of stubble really. This surprises me when I recall the dream, why my brain would invent a bearded lover when I’ve always been repelled by facial hair?But then, these dreams have never felt like dreams. They feel real and also alien, as if there was no way  my mind could have invented them by itself.

In the dream, the man kisses me and asks me how I slept, if I’m hungry, makes all the normal, affectionate couple gestures. I tell him I am concerned. I am afraid we are drifting and I don’t know where we are. He assures me we are safe and exactly where we need to be. His body grounds me, but his blue eyes unsettle me. Every time I look into them, I freeze a little and there is no thought or remembrance of Ally or anyone but him.

We make love. The sex is amazing, even by dream sex standards. Afterwards, the fear creeps back and I find my fingers tangling in his hair as I look into those cut turquoise orbs, my heart pounding against my bones. And he tells me that if my heart keeps beating so hard it will rock the boat.

And that’s when I wake up or go into a different dream.

Sometimes the boat is a nice sized pleasure boat with a galley and a cabin. It has also been a freighter. Sometimes we are drifting in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean. Other times we are sailing down a wide river. The water is serene or it’s  choppy. The man is blonde, sandy headed or his hair is dark. Always we are sleeping  in a boat. Always we wake up. We make love. His eyes are always blue. He  tells me my heart will rock the boat. When I wake, my heart is racing and I have to take a pill to calm it down.

But the third dream unsettles me the most.

-LM 2015


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