Dreaming of sex & war

I dreamt I was a fertility goddess in space collecting seeds from the forest floor to feed the stars & end the war that killed them all. A single bomb, a child born, washed up on the sandy shore. Braided hair to pass the time, only speak in whispered rhymes. Taste the flesh that’s been seeding pine needles. Black rough hands in soft gentle creases. Working for a child’s right to die in peaceful times. Leading generals with all that’s mine. Comfort wrapped in round bouncing hips. Histories course tangled in my lips. A soft wet secret in my heart. The birth of a millennial new start.

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Dreaming of fertility goddess

First I dreamt I was pregnant, wide & heavy in the hot sun. Waddling gracefully hands on belly. It felt as if the sun shone from my womb. New life. New energy. Full belly of it. Heavy expectation hanging over my waist line.

Next I dreamt I was with my lover in the throws of passion on a bed structured for display. Teaching the young men in attendance how to approach a woman. How to pay tribute to her curves. How to hold her flower. How to make yourself her instrument. One after the other I taught them all individually with gentle loving attention. Growing stronger & more powerful as I swallowed their seed.

Then I dreamt I was on my hands and knees in the garden. Dirt under my fingernails. Sun on my back. Plucking big fat strawberries. Sticky juices running down my arms and legs. Summers bounty literally overflowing everywhere the eye can see.

Is this what the sound of my ticking biological clock sounds like? Or am I entering a particularly fertile creative time? 

Either way I awoke luminous.

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