Another poem of Stephen’s that we took interest in, “And Dreams of Seas” felt real, raw, and visceral to us. We enjoyed it, as well as “Sighs,” and we hope you will too.
And Dreams of Seas
If the food stayed down
(& it did)
If the hands found each other
& not blindly
or just through letters,
that piercing paper touch
(& they did)
If we were soluble, the flesh
transparent, & could merge
in a flow where nobody
drowned
or at least not alone
(& we might have)
If your voice, face
was suddenly inside mine
& sky-lit eyes looked out brighter,
an ocean in the all-over-dark
(& we almost)
If I were not sad, could feel
joy even in your leaving
without angry idols, fearful
obsession of the fact
fact of your sickness
(& I am)
or death
(am not)
then the last vast wave
would not want oblivion
(& we cannot)
only a sort of truth,
nearly clear
(& we don’t)
in this surge,
the real dream
which does not stop
—
Stephen Mead is an Outsider multi-media artist and writer. Since the 1990s he’s been grateful to many editors for publishing his work in print zines and eventually online. He is also grateful to have managed to keep various day jobs for the Health Insurance. Currently he is resident artist/curator for The Chroma Museum, artistic renderings of LGBTQI historical figures, organizations, and allies predominantly before Stonewall: https://thestephenmeadchromamuseum.weebly.com/.