dream of: dreaming the dreamer

So... there I stood at the precipice of dawn, wondering where the sleep had gone.

No dreams in the night will wake me from slumber during the day, of course. Already I am the bleeding heart of my nightmares, a succulent cross between an orange and doom.

When it comes, it comes down like a freight train on an all-night haul, and diffracts into many dimensions, not just light.

Then, when it 'tis over, a shivering mass of flesh rejects itself and finds the stargate home.