All in all, of this incredible time,
this entire trip
myriad love affairs with borders
even more with envelopment:
and sea-like swallowing dreams,
seaweed dreams following me
into twilight having kept up
completely surreptitiously the whole
twenty-four hours before their re-emergence

then lapping at my ankles,
with smooth tongues of course
not to devour, but to remind the
two of us–my dreams wet,
and waking time of dream dry,
that we are one.

One, at the border of dreaming
one which swallows all swords
then spits them out again
whole, round globules
dream messages,
reasons to remember
soft gelatinous beginnings.

This is the third poem in a four-day series The Opiate is publishing by Nova Reeves. Read Day 1 here and Day 2 here.