I don't think I have crazier dreams than anyone else. I think I just remember them better after I wake up than most people.
We were at Normandy. I have never set foot across the Atlantic in my life, but I suppose it would be as beautiful as I imagined. The ocean, the ocean. The beach of blood. A friend of Mme. M owned a chateau that overlooked the sea, and so Mme. brought us to the white sand castle to stay as honored guests. Nearly all the walls were built from panels of glass. It felt as if we were walking through crystals, living inside a glass prism. We were in one of the sun-drenched rooms with a view of the ocean, sprawled across the white sandy carpet with our books and papers.
I wish(ed) you would look at me. But I don't think you ever did.
Oh, did I wake up yet? I don't think this is only a dream.
No comments:
Post a Comment