There is repetition

In the dream, there is repetition

In the dream, I cannot make them understand

In the dream, my fingertips itch, and they redden –

In the dream, there is the dream of colour.

In the dream, I trap a pigeon in the ceiling

In the dream they tell me don’t tell me your dreams

In the dream the objects move when I’m not looking

In the dream, I run a bath that overfills and

in the dream, it leaves a tidemark like a sock around my ankle.

In the dream, I watch them watch me

In the dream, I speak of solitude

In the dream I do not dare hold out my hands.

In the dream, I am amphibious, I see my breath fog up the window.

In the dream I know I dream but cannot wake.

In the dream, I hide my face within the bathroom mirror

In the dream the bed sheets twist around my ankle

In the dream I cannot make them understand.


Read the rest of Overland 223


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Fiona Wright

Fiona Wright’s new essay collection is The World Was Whole (Giramondo, 2018). Her first book of essays Small Acts of Disappearance won the 2016 Kibble Award and the Queensland Literary Award for nonfiction, and her poetry collections are Knuckled and Domestic Interior.

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