The Cut

I had a dream while gently being rocked at sea

I dreamt a cut.

A cut that shouldn't be,

A cut, performed by an invisible hand by cutting into molecules.

I began to realise that the cut was cutting my forehead.

And out the slit, many a cluttered threads fell.

So, so many illegible (uncountable) tangled threads,

They formed a tunnel,

That cast a shadow on the path ahead.

At the centre of the path,

A needle pointed further inwards.

As I walked on,

I kept trying to focus ahead.

But something/someone kept pinching my horizon in.

So, I grew tired of paying attention.

The horizon widened back up

And that's when I recognised where I was

At the place of olden rocks

And at the rock’s feet

A jellyfish laid

Didn't seem to notice me there at all

Was utterly unencumbered, or perhaps just daydreaming too.

I was gazing at her bulbous head, always slightly tilted forwards.

lt's funny how everyone can see right through her head but her, I thought.

Suddenly she looked at me and the scene changed

And they kept changing

I wasn't sure which thread we were following

There were these short sequences

Of a young person that was followed,

A Ghost that lurked around the hallways,

A house that has been burnt down

many a times,

To the point where all the toys turned grey.

The jellyfish found herself in a model home she did not make.

By the looks of it she did not recognise the streets she was in either.

She found the pace of other people's steps very peculiar.

The hours went by and yet she kept perfectly still, looking into other people's windows for hours and hours.

lt felt as if there lay miles and miles between her and those kitchen lightbulbs.

lt turned pitch black, she slept some more.

In the dream we woke up.

The jellyfish was immobilised on a yellow rock surrounded by running water.

She didn't seem to remember how to jump back into the water.

AII she wanted to do was to fly far, far away,

Away from the black waters.

She almost found herself in outer space.

She was very lucky to find a place with a good view of the world at a safe enough distance.

She welcomed the warmth of the sun on her transparent skin.

Eventually she started to dry up and naturally went after places with water.

To find the sea there she had to follow the traces left by those who were in the know of the rhythm.

She couldn't help her feet wanting to move along.

I could feel the dream was slowly slipping away and everything started to blur.

l'm not sure if she ever reached the sea but I vaguely remember her tentacles lovingly whirling,

oscillating and shimmering to the rhythm.