It's a worry.

I dream.
Of floating tall ships.
Of waterfalls in the sky.
Of abandoned zoos and museums whose rooms seem to go on forever.
And awful narrow staircases. That seem to reach too high.

I dream.
Of hidden busy marketplaces. Selling foreign goods – patrons always faceless.
They look like their going places. But I can never find what I’m looking for.
So, I’m heading out the door.

And there I dream.
Of swimming pools that you dare not enter and ornate changerooms sickly yellow tiles.
Of train stations and futuristic motels lining an underground space. You must walk single file.
Now I feel I’m being chased.

Out the backdoor – no time to save the dog, I make an impossible jump off the deck, over the fence and into the bush. I run. I run.

I finally feel free.  
You see. None of this really concerns me, either it’s the future or the past. So, in any case it’s already happened or it’s currently happening. I know you can’t change that.

But I find myself ever more worried. That over the last 2 weeks.
I’ve only dreamt of you.