deconstructing the dream

                                                                                twelve years of dreaming
                                                                                to deconstruct twelve years of life
                                                                                parallell unconscious processes
                                                                                twelve years to shore up
                                                                                the undermined structures
                                                                                echoes and mirrors
                                                                                down empty halls with nothing to reflect
                                                                                the dreams are always of houses
                                                                                houses where you were
                                                                                but are no more
                                                                                houses you want to break into
                                                                                houses you haunt
                                                                                houses you owned and left unattended
                                                                                I bring bits of those dreams
                                                                                back with me
                                                                                a beautiful piece of wood
                                                                                a ancient iron hinge
                                                                                bits of junk shop salvage
                                                                                for always the house is in ill repair
                                                                                beautiful remnants
                                                                                excavated from the unconscious
                                                                                i think i may have finished
                                                                                deconstructing the life
                                                                                we didn't build together
                                                                                and salvaged all the trim
                                                                                worth saving
                                                                                to adorn my new world
                                                                                constructed on a foundation
                                                                                built of
                                                                                all the broken bits of nothingness
                                                                                we gave to each other
                                                                                as in the last dream
                                                                                there were no houses
                                                                                just you and i
                                                                                you were angry
                                                                                and silent
                                                                                and i was in the car
                                                                                grudgingly you were driving
                                                                                headed for my new life
                                                                                and you would come back alone

                                                                                                               17 march 2001
                                                                                                               4 february 2001
 
 
 

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                                                                                                        copyright 2001
                                                                                                         nancy faye hill
                                                                                                      all rights reserved
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