when a girl dreams in a thunderstorm, this is what happens:

a poet has me in a bathroom. he tells me oh we should make love. i don't want to make love with him, but feel as though i should be nice because he is my superior so i politely decline. he removes his clothes, lays down on the white tile floor, begins rolling around. he has huge boils on his back. as he rolls back and forth he starts yelling, "hit them! hit them!" i think he's in pain so i reach out to hit one and it bounces back at my hand. "floppy one" he says, and i run out of the bathroom, disgusted and terrified.

i leave the house only to realize i'm being chased, that i have in some way been defiled and must be punished. i run through castles and down streets. finally three men with cigars catch me and take me through a roman arch, into the middle of a field. they tie me to a wooden post, keep calling me the madonna. a crowd gathers. i can see from above and on the other side of the arch that these men take off my arms and legs with axes. then my head. fastforward a year later, there is a festival, i am still in the field tied to the post. they stitch my arms, legs, and head back on. i return to being inside my body, i can again see through the other side of the arch, through my eyes. they have some kind of celebration, that i've died, that i'm resurrected. then they relive my dismemberment again. this will happen over and over ad infinitum. i will never not be tied to that post, never not be constantly with or without my body.

from now on i'm not sleeping in thunderstorms. it's too much. i mean, how can you walk around normal when you know dreams like this visit? may come again?