{"id":3616,"date":"2023-02-10T14:26:41","date_gmt":"2023-02-10T14:26:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/?p=3616"},"modified":"2023-02-10T14:55:00","modified_gmt":"2023-02-10T14:55:00","slug":"am-i-dreaming","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/2023\/02\/10\/am-i-dreaming\/","title":{"rendered":"Diary of Dreams"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>The sun wasn\u2019t revealed from the pulled curtain of my now open eyes, unburying me from a sleep that was drowning in dreams for once. Blackness ebbed through the shadowed corners of my room, stronger and opaque through the thin gaps of my blinds. Though, the only indicator of morning was nature&#8217;s promise of dawn where birds trill about. I drank from a glass, stationed on the right side of my bed, which had been kept cold from the chill that bled through glass windows, bleeding a sharp awakenment into my throat. Tide was cautioned to be low in about two hours and the sadness that dwelled inside me, somewhere lost, would\u2019ve coaxed me to sink back into my pillow. Suffocate myself back into the novelty of my dreams. But that sadness had rotted, rusted like an old boat at the bottom of an ocean, no longer functional under the hands of the most familiar captain. So the ocean called me not to drown beneath its surface, but to save me the words which would be lost to high tide if sleep had overtaken me again. And just like a crashing wave against the shore, my sleep shattered onto the sand of my keyboard. Maybe I\u2019m still dreaming or maybe the craft of sadness at the bottom of the ocean writes this hoping for golden rays to glitter their way down into the depths, once more making sorrowful songs beautiful and seen:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Will you meet me where the waves blanket our bare bodies and clothe us in sheets of numbness?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Or join me where the sun meets the dinner table of the horizon and lets darkness feed from it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Find me where the city lights glitter across the bay like the places you rested your lips on me<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Let them remind you of the glossy markings you left on my skin like stars over my blank slate<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Why don\u2019t we coat our toes in wave kissed sand where the sun doesn\u2019t dry it\u2019s love in minutes<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Or how about lie under the moon and let it wash a veil of sleep over us, holding our bones of flailing limbs where we\u2019d drift apart<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Doesn\u2019t it sound beautiful?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I\u2019d like to chase you through the coastal plants, feeling them brushing against my pants until your fingers graze their absent hold on my bare skin<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>My gooseflesh will peak from your filling of caress and then those skin made mountain tops will scream with raised hairs under the grasp of the night air<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So meet me where my nerves scream with the waves, meet me beneath the stars that paint their sights of us and where the city lights mold to the inches of kisses I crave<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Steal my hand from the moon that holds it and take its icy white fingers from my hair, wrapping me in your warmth brand<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Let us mimic the sand and the waves while they kiss forever in wetness, bare and untouched by outside sounds until dawn<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Let the only footsteps created on this beach be our own to hold these moments for a little longer<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>If I\u2019m not dreaming, meet me where the ocean reverberates from our storm of love and touches like lightning, sparking streaks of desire that run through our nerves like electrical wires<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>To be a physical reminder of reality, we\u2019ll leave our clothes piled with the stories they hold, left behind in the blackness of night to be lost in a world shifting light<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Let\u2019s get lost until the sun brings us to our shadows where life weighs heavy at our feet<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Maybe we\u2019ll find a lightness in the dark, where electricity meets the water, the world will awake to our spark<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In my dreams, we meet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The sun wasn\u2019t revealed from the pulled curtain of my now open eyes, unburying me from a sleep that was&hellip;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3617,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":true,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_mi_skip_tracking":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[119],"tags":[256,111,244,255,235],"class_list":["post-3616","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-story-telling","tag-beach","tag-dreams","tag-romance","tag-sleeplessness","tag-sunrise"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3616","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3616"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3616\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3630,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3616\/revisions\/3630"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3617"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3616"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3616"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/intheskye.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3616"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}