A species
unknown to
you

pale purple floaters
bobble in my eyes
and they ache
from the dreams last night.

If only somebody’d teach me how to dream…
That’s a favor I could never fully repay,
unless you somehow forgot too.

Fleshy scales and feelers (like prongs)
make up my lips
and yet they are still desirable?

Ripples in water fascinate me.
Not that my oval shaped
brain can’t handle
the idea of everlasting waves
originating from a single action.
Even when they reach the edge,
they echo back onto themselves,
evaluating themselves,
inverting themselves.

I suppose my greatest fear is
that I’ll begin foaming at the mouth
and like the dog I am,
be put down to save me from my misery.
And it will be before I’ve birthed my cubs
or raised them or taken them to dentist appointments
or grounded them after they have made poor choices or
even before they can’t sleep and need my song.

Before I’ve taught them to dream,
so they know they don’t have to fill their sleep
with intrusive thoughts.