Upside dreams Alloy

V.

I had a dream. We were walking together under the water. There were creatures, many a different, strange ones, the weirdoes, alike many a people who spawn down the streets. The big carp alikes – the ones with the biggest foreheads – were playing chess, uninterested in us. We could stand for a while or longer near that or this table, insinuating their moves – the chessboards along with the forehead carps wouldn’t much care. We cared. We believed, our presence there could turn sides. A downside – to upside.

Other creatures looked more like zoo features: a lemming with porcupine back, a lemur of trend and transition, a platypus without ‘p’ in a name, a lion with no sense of humour. The only joke, the lion understood, was about the platypus. Whichever time the lion saw the mammal bird with a distinctive wart resting at the curve of his quite a distinctive beak, the lion would brawl out: “oh, look, the latypus is comin’, the latypus a puss, where is your octopus, haha, you mousy muss!” Platypus was well aware of his own sense of humour, well enough not to react, contact, respond. Lemming was mostly aggressive, scratching his back, as if he’s not aware it’s all porcupine, thence the blood waistline, for the lemming was sure he was wearing some pants. Lemur did laugh at lion’s jokes, but only because a) he was consulting the lion on the matter of trends, and b) lemur was mostly asleep, a transition condition, therefore by awakening the simplest thing he’d do, is to attach himself to the cognition of a leader, which, according to the obvious natural knowledge, a lion should be.

Thus, many a lemurs encouraged lions to mock over (p)latypuses whilst lemmings with porcupine backs bloody waistelined their porcelain dreams in the rounds of mire. A mire-ish, and a boggish dump it was, that place, under the water.
 
Having our minds moved the pieces, chess’ ones, many times, and getting bored over spectating of the repeatedly inadequate zoo features, we returned to thinking, summarizing, plotting something better than this. The underwater had been fun, but we were not amused to be some drowners. Or downers. You never can tell a true spelling, when marching the bottoms of seas. It doesn’t count, by the way, if you say, I saw the sea, meaning – you saw just the sea’s bottom. The sea you see is only when you are on the upside.


M.

Above the marshes. Above the tops, the golden hats, the granites. Midnight blue, and cold, it’s hard to fly. A winter? No. An autumn? No. A spring? Already not. It’s this summer, which is heartily cold. That wings no more. I hardly keep me up, to memorize the view – of pills and crosses. Then I faint.

A shore. Plenty of shipping boats around, fishnets’ drying under the sun; many a sails out there, close to horizon, heading to the solar collar. I’m not a bird, a woman, lying on the grass of grey and rot; there are some green sprouts coming out, although, which makes me feel I could stop beating that much, have a rest. Heart beating.

I had a dream. He walked me down the water. Underneath the surface, to the bottom sea. My eyes were closed, or blinded. Maybe, I can’t tell, but maybe I wasn’t ready to see… all. Down there I could separate an eyelid from an eyelid, as if were the bridge, my eyes, and finally I saw… the sea. At least, the bottom of the sea. There were no fishes, though. But fish-heads, gambling arts. And curios mammalikes, goofing.

He told me: “One may suggest we are drowners, as we are standing on the bottom of this sea. But one is never to suggest we could reverse it – turn it all upside. Suggested to be drowned, we would get down… from the skies. Down to the shore. To see this sea, upside.”
It happened then. But just before, he told me: “We have seen the bottom of the sea, first. We wouldn’t ever, thus now, want to drown.”

_________

They got their upsides alloyed.
On the 29th day of the moon.