In this dream I burn
And so does the world
Even the pavement beneath my feet
The glass hanging vertically above me
The air shot through with hot white embers.
Here I breathe the freshest air I have ever tasted
Burning flesh and hair smells sweet, not acrid.
Despite the fire I am cool, at room temperature.
I listen as screams fill the air when night descends
Even the stars fall, icy to the touch
Striking me with a cold burn
Not the explosive heat of a sun.
The burning beings of the world flock to the stars
But the heavenly glaciers do not save them.
A drunken moon devours the junkie sun
Regurgitates it into a burning ocean
It fizzles and dies with a hiss.
Yet when the dream ends
I do not wake in a sweat.