dream 12
A man’s face appeared, adorned
in peyote buttons and bones,
stretched like a hide
across saguaro spines.
His eyes’ heavy gaze fell over me
like stones displaced a drowned
turquoise quarry.
The jagged line of his mouth
had been carved by hand and shone
against the dark like abalone shell.
He spoke abruptly,
with an onslaught of sound.
The way dynamite finds its way
to the heart of a mountain.
I woke on a bed of nails,
earlier than the Sun could bare
to climb the horizon. To thunder
crashing outside, like waves
reclaiming as their own
the bedrock of Earth itself.
About the Creator
Sean Balogh
A lover of soft cheese and delayed gratification. I prefer plants to people, more often than not. Most of these words should find a home among the compost but hey, at least I'm still writing.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.