bare altars
rivers of yellow and blue cloth
topped with elaborate soperas
stare back at me, beckoning.
i reach for them when no one is looking.
the sink is full of dishes
i say i intend to wash
a sheetcake awaits decoration
i can already see finished.
this will be an interesting party.
i keep falling asleep in a small room
where at least three other people
are waking up.
why did i think i was alone?
spain lilts on their tongues
but i am still myself.
who invited me here?
the last time i struggle to wake
my eyes don't work
i know the dream is ending.
my gratitude for the message
is nearly eclipsed by my confusion.
the ever winding path
my ancestors walked
gets longer with each vision.
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