After being fed and fed coffee and coffee and hot chocolate too
I am back to sleep
this time on the curvy love seat, a cat nap spot at the foot of the bed.
I dream hard.
I am with her, walking into Central Park holding hands. Its a fall day, I think we skip some, or there is wind and we are happy.
Soon there are koi ponds all around, pathways and ditches, bridges and smooth rocks
we both watch the koi swirl and swirl under the glassy surface. We bounce over the ponds wildly, like luck moves in, like giggling.
At one pond she picks me up and walks into it, her tail coats floating behind her like fins. She is holding me sideways, I am curled, my hair dangling, my high heel boots jutting out like daggers. Dry and sharp.
A Huge ancient koi whips around below. We are both surprised at him, massive gills moving inside the tiny pools.
The older women lounging in the water laugh and tell us all about the secrets there. It's not warm but they are very old and happy, spread out as if the sun cooed them into spreading out pancakes on a griddle.
I love the women and love being there with Johanna. We hold hands like a key inside a lock. It is creaky and engraved and precious and simple. A piece that fits like a smooth stone sinking. slow. clean. soft.
I run into Lindsay from MICA. She is beautiful and is still with the same man she was dating seven years ago, they are holding hands. I hug her in that sophisticated white coat, I tell her I am so happy to see her, that I am happy for her move to Baltimore, happy happy.
In my waking life I am bundled on the love seat. I feel hungover, achey, saddish.
Not all my dreams feel so free. In my waking body I need.
My waking self sees snow falling, wears impossibly high glitter heels, spends all day exhaling, trying to feel a feeling, hoping to make a life that feels like jumping, that feels like gasping at the giant fish swirling.
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