poems

Dreamcatcher: A Poem

Sugar and Salt (1)

Brewing more frequent, vivid

and tangible dreams in those five

minutes of lucid awakening

than in the entire star clustered

night, I bumped into consciousness.

Stirring in bed and stretching like a baby;

reaching up to rub the sleep out of my eyes,

I felt something odd. Instead of my

soft fingers with subtle circular imprints

on the tips, I could feel squishy flesh and fur

 

against my face. Opening my dazes eyes,

flooding with the milky moonlight streaming

from the window, I looked down to see two

sleek black paws in place of my hands. I turned

them over; spongy pink pads, dazzling

white claws and shiny dark fur staring back at me.

Flexing my new paws, I stroked my head;

feeling around for two pointy ears, long

white whiskers and a rough, sandpaper tongue.

I slinked out of bed, landing on the floor with

agility and poise. Crawling over to the mirror

in my bedroom, all the while feeling my shoulders

gliding up and down, backwards and forwards,

along my spine like machinery, like platinum

pumps on a grand ship.

Looking into the mirror, the hazy moonlight

gliding in a strip, illuminating only

half of my features, I gazed at my

new face. With radioactive lime green

eyes that could shrink to thin, sinister

slits, and stretch to inky black spheres

upon my telepathic command, and

a small, button nose; I had morphed

into a silky slender, moggy cat.

Turning my head back to the bed,

I could see myself; my real self, lying

undisturbed in a deep, dreamy sleep.

Double taking back and forth from the

sleeping girl in the bed to the cat in the

mirror, I wondered which one was

dreaming.


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