The Operations Of The Dawn

Awake, and not having forgotten the original mission of this dream called earthly life
Yes, not swayed or dissolved by that operation of cascading sidetracks resembling waves, inward spirals, and matryoshka dolls.
Not falling for the cruel ancient gambit
Staying safe from it by not trying to negotiate the crossroads at your front porch
Resolute to eschew following any bedroom doors which remove themselves from their hinges and walk around chateaus, even through the halls and rooms
Resolute that I will never go down that long, long, square, usually clockwise, spiral staircase
That staircase which, though I have examined it with the eye a few times when I was younger, I am sure I have never trod
Yes, never going down that spiral stair

Nor entering it’s chateau
I think I know where those steps go

I am awake
This is true
I tell you this again
Do not forget that I am awake

I turn the key
I enter through the backyard door and make my way up a white marble staircase
No one else appears to be home
Soon, I am outside your bedroom threshold.
I open up the cold white door, just as we did in our counterfactual childhood together

The winter sun is rising through your broad balcony window

I hear the sound of remnant birds moved to song

Besides my reflection in your tall mirror, I can find no one in your room

Suddenly, blizzard-like footsteps beat brightly, a breeze blows against the back of my neck, and pyjama fabric covers my eyes

For a few moments all is dark

Too dark to see the indigo flowers on white

But I can hear and feel and smell and taste and know

I can tell that you, with your finger on my chest, are writing my name with a character that only has a single stroke

~~~

Soon it will be breakfast

And, together as one, we will eat bread

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