dream (prose )

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I have a dream where I run and run to search for the edge of the world. From one end to the other. But I can't find this edge. This border. It's just wind. Endless air. I scream and I scream and I drop to my knees and kiss the ground and claw the soil. I grab the earth and I rub them on my skin mixed with sweat like mixing raw umber with water. I chew on grass and spit them out and add them to the Earth on my body like fine final touches. I'm the canvas. I'm the artist. But it's not enough. I dig into my skin. Deeper and deeper. My body screams. Red, raw umber, and fern green. At least now my heart is pounding. At least now, my heart is pounding 

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