i had this dream early this morning, and in it i was talking with *m*. it was a face-off, to be perfectly honest. and he was completely fed-up with me, too, only i was so far beyond caring that...well...i didn't care. and he asked me what i wanted in my perfect world.
and i told him.
the dream faded to what my dreams usually are: swirling colors and darkness, thoughts and reflections of my heart spoken aloud by disembodied voices that sound like the textures that have made up my life. i dream of music and the desire to fly. i've never flown in my dreams...except once. something is always tethering me down, or knocking me out of the sky, or gravity suddenly becomes ten thousand times more powerful, or i hit a ceiling that suddenly appears, or...or...or...
...except once. i really flew, and my subconscious was so surprised, the oddity so remarkably odd, that it actually knocked me into a lucid dream. conscious thought entered the picture because i was so shocked to actually be flying. so shocked that, for the first time ever in my life, i wasn't being held down or denied.
which is why i usually dream of colors and darkness, of floating in nothing, of music and voices talking.
and i was hearing my own voice continue to rant, to be so brutally honest my every word was a lash meant to break skin, shatter bone, and cut through to the soul. and i can hear them all, tumbling around inside my head all day long until i thought i would go crazy from it. usually dreams fade with time no matter how hard you try to hold onto them. no, this one was etched into me.
my voice became something other...my voice, only not my voice. different. deeper, richer. not so annoying. there was even a hint of maleness in it, as well, of the deep timbre and quality of a man's voice that i love -- when you can feel a man's voice vibrate your own body if his chest is deep enough, if his voice is rich enough. there's something so sensual and erotic about it, something that touches a primal part of my female sense i really can't deny.
my voice had it, too. and, somehow, i knew my honesty and my hardness were coming from that masculine note in me. the woman in my voice was all the longing and softness, all the yearning and reaching and desire to make One.
"in my perfect world, you touch me," i said. "in my perfect world, you hold me close."
in my perfect world, you want me close.
in my perfect world, i take refuge in you.
in my perfect world, you see my deep, quiet, female strength.
in my perfect world, you see together we complete the ancient song.
in my perfect world, you don't take me for granted.
in my perfect world, you value my needs as much as i value yours.
in my perfect world, you appreciate how we balance each other.
in my perfect world, you see that's how the gods made us.
in my perfect world, you hear my flesh screaming for your love as loudly as i can hear it.
in my perfect world, you care enough to ask me why.
in my perfect world, you care enough to work to understand.
in my perfect world, you do not stand apart from me.
...too bad it's only a dream.