‘No one dreams like you.’
I am dancing in a meadow
I pull up my dress and let the sun reflect on my lunar skin.
I am striped like a white tiger in pearlescent lines
camouflaging my arms, breast belly and thighs.
I am singing out in sacred sighs
and robins come to watch.
‘No one dreams like you.’
I recall the mountainside shattered into blue does,
streaming down a desertscape, until they became one and formed
a lake.
I gazed into it and saw a whale.
My pelvis bloomed like a cactus.
No one dreams like you.
Your breath escapes into me when we’re sleeping
and in the dark
the luminescence of car lights on wet nights
play like shadow puppets on
your back and your chest
and your arms.
I watch your eyelids flicker like moths
No one dreams like you.
I am crying in a thunderstorm
arguing with a trickster god
telling me to swim now
now
now.
I am naked but never alone.
Lightening strikes the water
and trees grow from the scars.
Transparent vagabonds encircle me.
No one dreams like you.
I can feel you pull away from me
I am here deafened by your heart beat.
My lips are like a poppy
your skin feels like their milk.
Let me lick your wounds
we humans have cut us deep
Remember that you love me.
Let me dream again with you.
Sionnachaí 