When I sleep I become what I am not.

I am not in the rock, I’m in my dream. There are colors, not only the drab reluctant shades of reality, but also the brightness of red. And blue and green, colors I know from long ago, before it all. My body is free to take liberty. To jump, exploding from my hips and soaring if for only a second. I can listen to the sounds of truths and lies and nature. There is water. Valleys of water filled to the brim with the blueness and greenness. Mountains of water. My eyes fill with tears and suddenly my thirst is great and I desire the water reaching forth to take it between my hands and wash it over my face, feeling it dance in the corners of my eyes and slip down my tongue.