A Dream


Jessica Li '23


She speaks, words spilling onto the lonely canvas 

Monday, Tuesday, Saturday, every day 

A paper here, a message there, salty stained colorful letters 

The lights brighten, the sounds scream, nothing is waiting to come

I blink 


Blinding shadows, dark face, scribbly sticks and dull shades 

I’m hunching, circular shape, cracking under blank space 

Another note, n-th scratch, glancing up and staring back 

Time’s up, shuffle upwards before leaping down 

I blink 


Loud corridor, squirming pieces, clipping hooves and roaring crosses 

Making it, no end so I’m back at the start 

Squeaky plastic, hushed jabbing, careful queens and empty kings 

Flipping shields, no one’s that simple are they?

I blink 


Silent stage, loud theatre, blank actress and frozen actor 

I’m there, the middle as well as the cliff 

Screeching steel, humming wood, silent bow and empty hood 

Ticking lights, counting down towards the final drop 

I blink 


She’s done, summed up in empty breaths 

Sunday, Thursday, Wednesday, night and day 

A cut string, an unsent letter, tipping before the hollow cave 

The night darkens, the silence grows, everything has yet to come 

I blink


A future that has yet to happen