Lucid Dream

Tonight as you sleep,

dream of a dream

you have been waiting

to dream.

Not the things you would

dare not do for real.

But the real

just waiting around the bend

for you to sleepwalk there.

Of the unlisted places,

unnamed peripheries

and skylines.

Dream of the taste,

the colour and texture.

Cold toes. Slender limbs.

Fingers entwined.

Transfixed eyes.

Dream cautiously,

dream the little things,

from the length of her hair

to the smell of his breaths.

Of freckles and birthmarks.

The sound

of her rare laughter

and timings

of his untimely smile.

You've dreamt by now

to love in bits.

Now dream to love

every bit of your love

to the fullest.

Dream the unobvious.

A bit suttle,

a bit out control,

unknown.

What did he say,

you wanted him to?

What did she do,

you wanted her to?

No, don't pause.

Let it roll.

It wasn't that unobvious

afterall.

Dream of the silences

after everything

is said and done.

The silence which keeps

giggling

between those two

oneiric pair of eyes.

You wished that I get a dream.

But I am a dream.

And asking a dream to 

can be catastrophic.

You still wished, for a dream 

to be within a dream.

I dreamt.

And Blackout.