Spanish afternoon
There's a certain heat outside
A dry summer sun in the sky
Ripe tomatoes on a worn kitchen table
Bursting from their skins
Even the wind is hot
red dust clings to every surface
The heat is insufferable
a baby is crying next door
I stare at the placid waves
as my head is immersed
in the bassin of cold water
emerging again into the heat
The cold glass raised to my mouth
Pearls of sweet moist Fino touch my lips
Sends a rush of fever to my cheeks
Your eyes are so clear today
I notice the sweat on your shoulder
As I pull up my skirt
Your hand supporting me
and we melt into the afternoon
Surrealist fantasy
I have words resting on my lips
Desires that need to be spoken
Softly like a lovers touch
As I succumb to Dionysian fantasies
Of wild maidens in natures disguise
Rows of sickly scented flowers fill my mind space
Draped in surrealist landscapes
Which pass before my retina
There is a space where your eyes used to be
A cataclysm devoid of expectations
The dog is barking in the wrong direction
There's always to tails to a story
Time as no continuum
Here where everything is possible
And nothing is corrected
Could you survive here
Do you believe in the illusion
Or is reality more assuring
The fat lady is singing again
As the thin man walks into the telephone booth
A cup of coffee is spilled in Mexico
To everybody's great surprise
And I wake up to find
That I am only dreaming
I am only dreaming
You are only dreaming
We are only dreaming
We are dreaming
It’s a dream
It’s fantasy
It’s emptiness
