Pterodactyl hidden
within the lizard
lounging on the rock.
At night, unbounded,
it soars across
our dreams
with unfinished arms
stretched up,
swiftly scoring the rind
of our melon hided wishes.

Faithful memory replays
at daylight,
in swift incantation,
the unremembered and not understood
reptilian speech we scripted
before our birth.

In holy wilderness
we trudge with fervent stride
through archetypical tropics
swollen with half forgotten,
half invented history.
Feelings are banished
for speaking unrepentant truth.

We squeeze our preborn past
into the night
and try to tame it
with dreamless sleep
and unsleeping dreams.