War of Dreams [07-20-01]

Wishing I were
somewhere far from
my own intuition..
Somewhere down
beneath the sound
of synchopated rhythm.

Here it goes
again, against
my pounding brain, collecting
thoughts and dreams
and squishing them
into a mesh of meaning.

I have walked
along the water,
laughed at my reflection.
Deep within
the ripple mirror
I can find connection

to a silent,
steady stream of
conscious, cold denial.
There within
the liquid pool
my heart beats soft, on trial

for the right
to drizzle through
the sinful, crimson liquid.
Now and then
it skips a beat -
a sigh from the insipid

war of dreams
and struggle with
another's inhibitions.
Soon, I think
my heart will sink
in their embraced depression.