domingo, 16 de noviembre de 2014

Dreamemories

We don't sleep as humans do, but we daydream. But my brothers and I share dreams so similar that maybe they're not but memories, but they're confusing.
I see my hand wielding a fragment of a mirror
I see a man staring at me behind a glass, he gets angry, my hand hits the glass fragmenting the image.
I see my brothers, some standing, some lying in tables, some getting up
I see a wooden ceiling, stained by months of smoke.
I see the broken frame of a mirror.
I see a body, not unlike mine, but incomplete, its right side is missing
I see books. So many books.
I hear an explosion, I'm surrounded by flames
I see a human, lying in a table.
I see an anvil, a hammer over it, an arm, not unlike mine, made from wood and iron, lies incomplete on the anvil.
I see a bottle, fell in the floor
I see a woman's face, behind a glass. She doesn't see me.

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