Dreams or Reality?

         To sleep, to dream, and stumble past the rumored pines without needles stuck between my toes. I could limp past the fragrant pools which suck me in and beyond; to the laughing waves of the ocean that sprays, or the torrid heat of the doldrums that becalm my soul. I pass unnoticed beneath the shimmering moon, and its mocking gaze, capturing a net of reflections across Orion's belt.

         The dreams evince no notions of the troubled seas that wait for me over those pines and pools and moons. But beauty….ah, too, that lies somewhere in between; somewhere outside of the dream, delicious in its reality, but killing in its certainty.

         The dreams are mine, but reality rides like a serpent along my back.