Relic #6: Where My Dreams Go, 1957

“The answer is dreams. Dreaming on and on. Entering the world of dreams and never coming out. Living in dreams for the rest of time.”   ~Haruki Murakami~


We went here, not knowing.  Here, the bitter wine. The dreams. Trailing bare feet through the mica-flecked water, sky reflecting brown. Cicadas humming hungry harmony. Lust in the green leaves. You turned to me and said we couldn't have any more than this. So, I took a long pull from the bottle and swallowed the words I wanted to give you.  Passed you the bottle instead. Watched the fine ligaments of your throat drink it all in. Imagined tributaries and hollow veins channeling downstream beneath your skin.

There, the flutter of your pulse in your neck. There, where my dreams go. Some summer afternoons, I can still almost kiss you. Can almost taste it. The wine that turned. Heart that turned. Face that turned away from mine. The answer is in dreams. The answer is always yes.