I will not get out of bed

I will not get out of bed because I haven’t finished my dream. I had sought the gentle rise

and fall of Ocean’s tide. Exposed my tippy toes to the cool salty buzz. It was low-tide but all I

could smell was citrus brine. I had the courage to inquire with her. “Ocean, can you tell me what

you admire most about your body?” But of course, as I heard ripples and saw change in the tide,

I woke up. Keeping my eyes closed in hopes I’d be sleepy enough to presume what her answer

may be, no luck. I’m now imagining I can hear the notes of Ocean greeting the sand that lies

below her Body. The sun peeks through my closed eyelids and I pretend it is a rare kelp that

glows orange under the sun of June. The tide is rising with my breath. Drifting into relaxation of

lucidity and just then Ocean replies, “I cherish the symbiotic relationships of creatures and

outgrowths in my body. I embrace exploring my body’s temperatures by soaking up the sun and

simmering my warmth or being under the moon to cool and have my body steam. That is what I

love about my body.” I can hear the bulbous noises of a buoy from afar. I can feel the sun stick to

my nose, and the warm hydrating embrace of algae on my skin. Maybe here is where I awake. I

don’t want to leave this dream. My eyes open, and I’m laying on my duvet with a puddle of

sweat underneath my back. I will not get out of bed because I haven't finished my dream.