Protiti Rasnaha Kamal
Our dreams cry out loud tonight,
looting our sleep.
As we harvest those that have ripened
they tumble in front of us.
They take each of our stories
and make them condense on the glass window.
A stormy affair.
The window of our eyes shuts itself out while
our dreams create their own storms.
We are not protagonists in these stories.
They pull a vanishing act on us,
when our eyes appear to open.
Like an escape artist's forgotten key,
Our eyes fail to open wide.
To see the storm outside.
Our dreams are sly.
A picture of a doorbell rings in them,
but they don't call on us.
Like an annoying snore, those images pester us.
Sometimes a fish brings good luck.
Sometimes a fish brings back the storm.
Not in our hands, those meanings confuse
Our nightly power naps.
A 90 second dream. A 90 minute storm.
Every estimation casts a shadow under our eyes.
We all know, morning will shine a light on them.
But today's sleep has gone astray.
Protiti Rasnaha Kamal is a graduate of Mount Holyoke College, USA