i dream of whales

I dream of whales, and I’m not the only one.

I’ll go to sleep, queso cheese, American redundancy, caked hard to the inner-lining of my stomach, or my intestines, I don’t know which one.

We always write about sleeping, or waking, or dreaming, and we’re all the same, but we don’t know it.

How do I tell a world that’s full of hate on both sides that I agree with the man in the fire and the man who chants ROY G BIV out of freedom, out of the pureness of his gay heart, a fire no amount of tears can turn to ash.

I believe in a book that burns at the fingertips of everyone who picks it up. It is a bomb. It can not be extinguished by words, or proof, because there is no proof, but no one believes me, or him.

I dream of whales so big they can swallow me, and I could live in them. I could brush its teeth with my hair. I could rub the inside of him, calm his nerves, and one day, he’d spit me out because he knows there’s something called “SIN” somewhere in my blood. He smelt it because I am a lady, and “EVE” gave me some kind of pain, but then again, she gave me the will to produce life, or was that someone else?

I’m not supposed to say these things out loud. I’m supposed to be a good girl. I’m supposed to wash the feet of him who brings good news with perfume more expensive than the Trump towers because this is art. But I’m not supposed to say anything about the spirituality of the sensual being that enraptures men (and women!) with her soft (or squeal!) song. But I’m not sure what I’m allowed to say when I say “LOVE” because I’m not sure any of us know what the word “BELONG” really means. We only like to pretend we do around campfires and cases of beer. Or when we lift our hands in sweet surrender, to a song in a crowd that a vocalist sweats out or a hymn that speaks of the word “GRACE” but doesn’t speak through tradition, somehow. So I’ll choose like I had to do with mom and dad, chocolate or vanilla. Or I’ll fall asleep, or wake, or dream, and pretend the whole world knows the earth is what we all have in common.

I dream of whales, and I’m the only one.

Published by celinamcmanus

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