Sweet Dreams

Sanjana Srikumar

What do they mean to truth?
A dream-come-true fairytale, perhaps?
A rags-to-riches, cleverly marketed
text on marketing.

Are you dreaming, love?
Of the end,
The light after.
Of emptiness.

I dream too.

Not castles and bagpipes.
Not fairytales.
Sounds quite the same though,
As I lie awake,
Thinking of you.

I dream of you too.

Are you dreaming,
Of letting go,
Of pain,
And watch it all disappear?

I dream too.
Of your hands on me.

Are you dreaming, love?
Of playing cricket on the streets,
Smashing glass windows,
Running away, scot free.

I dream too.
But you never escape me.

Is there music?
When you dream,
Is there music?
I hear the song that played in the 'kaali-peeli'-
Crammed against you
Floating really.

Is there dancing?
I can never quite picture that.
I am, of course,
Dreaming of movement
As I froze.

I dream too
Of your hands on me,
Smashing glass windows,
Running away scot free-
You never escape me.
Floating really.
Dreaming of movement
As I froze
To the music in the kaali peeli.

And learnt that persistence must be awarded,
No just means not yet,
And yes sounds confusingly like my silence.

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