What is a dream if not the illusion that separates, as an invisible barrier, the I from the other? And this isolation, eternal to the dreamer and non-existent to the sleeper, forges its trance into a cacophony of desire, longing, love.
Published by Koyote the Blind
Salvadoran in exile. I am a writer, poet, story teller, performer, and hablador. I am a Toltec survivor. Check out my author page: amazon.com/author/koyote View all posts by Koyote the Blind