You are not supposed to be here. You know that. You took a wrong turn.
You should have been out of here. Out, somewhere in the wilderness. You know that.
There is nothing real here. You cannot touch anything. You cannot hold anyone here.
Your skin longs to be caressed. To be caressed by an unrelenting rain.
You are famished, you don’t know for what. You have forgotten. Why were you here?
This longing has flayed your skin. You don’t know what you have done. You know that.
In this cage, you dream of outside.
You forget, you locked the door from inside.
You are sleeping. You don’t listen. You still wake up in a dream no matter how many times you wake up.
I look at you, lovingly, from within my own dream.
You are dreaming of rain.
I smell the scent of earth in rain.
Rain, that rises from the skin of earth.
In the dream, we long for the breath of the earth to envelop us.
Outside the dream, the sun chars the earth beneath our feet, flayed by us.
We don’t wake up.