Dream Log
We are writing from our dreams.
I am not asleep.
I hold one hand in the other.
We notice the topography of our palms.
We notice our lifeline has grown longer, our fate line, shorter.
I see the pain flow in channels from three scars on abdomen.
We itch.
We sense the flow along the torso, down the arm, through the hand.
We hypnotize.
I see my sister’s long fingers in our hands.
We face our palms upward.
I realize that my lines have aged.
We hold our hands up to our face and stay there.
I think about our sisters.
We touch their feet.
You write about last night’s dream.
You close our eyes.
We dream in trance.
I stand to eat from my plate.
We sleep off the breadcrumbs.
I am not asleep.
I hold one hand in the other.
We notice the topography of our palms.
We notice our lifeline has grown longer, our fate line, shorter.
I see the pain flow in channels from three scars on abdomen.
We itch.
We sense the flow along the torso, down the arm, through the hand.
We hypnotize.
I see my sister’s long fingers in our hands.
We face our palms upward.
I realize that my lines have aged.
We hold our hands up to our face and stay there.
I think about our sisters.
We touch their feet.
You write about last night’s dream.
You close our eyes.
We dream in trance.
I stand to eat from my plate.
We sleep off the breadcrumbs.
Sept / Oct 2023
Maw Shein Win's most recent poetry collection is Storage Unit for the Spirit House (Omnidawn). She is the inaugural poet laureate of El Cerrito, CA and teaches poetry in the MFA Program at the University of San Francisco. Win often collaborates with visual artists, musicians, and other writers and was recently selected as a 2023 YBCA 100 Honoree.
Art: Cam Pietralunga. Maybe We Can Live on the Moon. Acrylic on canvas.