Here

30 November 2013
11:08 PM
Manila

M.–

Here is a dream: I was walking through a flood, the water up to my knees, then after a while it slowly turned into clouds, then afterward a field of cranberries, then afterward a field of lavender.

Here is a dream: I am standing in a room that I can call my own. I have finally moved out and there is sunlight in my living room. I am surrounded by books, and I have a desk where a stack of poems are waiting to be revised. I am eating an apple, and my hair is a mess, and Frank Sinatra is crooning somewhere, his voice a wave, a caress.

Here is a dream: We are having a bottle of wine and sitting on the porch, watching the sunset. We have just made plans to go out tomorrow and I am thinking about sleeping over because I’m much too full with food and stories, and it’s such a pity to have to go out and walk away from this.

Here is a dream: I am reaching for a book in my shelf, only to realise that I have finally read them all.

Here is a dream: I go to bed and someone is wrapping his arms around me.

Here is a dream: Tuscany.

Here is a dream: I am walking the pathway that leads to the door of the Kelly Writers House. I am nervous and giddy, and suddenly I hear Al’s voice, and there are tears, tears all over my face.

Here is a dream: I am putting the finishing touches on the food, I am barefoot in the kitchen, and over my shoulder I can hear my friends laughing, all of my friends from all over the world who have come to see me, and be with me, and everyone is getting along fine, and we are having a lovely night, and I am thinking what I have done to deserve this.

Here is a dream: one day I wake up, and I have nothing, absolutely nothing to worry about. I am just me, and that is all right.

Goodnight,
T.

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