From Poet To Reader

Reading the page, the text suddenly is lifting off the page.

I can see the image of the text displayed in front of me.

There is no reality, only our imagination, it arranges our thoughts into some kind of text image?

But how can I accept this ‘image nation’?

There must be some truth and beauty.

I am not a body and a mind.

What am I?

I see myself resolving into a bright light.

It turned off.

I am remembering a movie from my childhood.

It is called the “Fantastic Voyage”.

Instead of seeing the inside of my body, I am envisioning a surrreal dream.

I can hear myself, I feel warm, I am in warm coffee.

It sure as shit smells like coffee.

I can see light way up, maybe a thousand feet.

I am going to try and swim over to find the shore.

There seems to be an edge or barrier.  I can’t make anything out.

Shit, I know what this is, I am starting to wake up. I am having a lucid dream.

Are you listening to me!

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