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Your StoriesThe Dream

The Dream

in my dream
a fragrant cargo ship
filled with orchids, carnations, lilies and roses
docks at the harbour of my town

a family,
with a famous Spanish name
sailing with the flowers
quietly disembarks

they travel deeply into the dense air
of a humid, misty summer night
noting droplets well up
on the thirsty, cupped leaves of trees

a family,
also with deep Canadian roots
crystallized
in the amber age of time

they slip silently through glistening streets
gathering under the soft, hazy light
of lamp stands
seeking a window, carelessly left open

my breath is heavy, my body hot
as i lie half in and out of sleep
somewhere close
the high- pitched buzz of female voices

as i grope for the lamp
a sharp stab
my arms flail crazily in the dark
more stabs

i slap the air
and pull my hair in despair
i find the switch and hunt you down
anxious for the sleep i want to keep

there you are, resting on the sill
your tiny bellies bloated
with my blood
i strike you and smash your eggs
delighting in your red demise

Adios, Culicidae, ‘little mosquito!
Gotcha!

Bernadette van Duyvendyk June 8, 2022

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