Poem: Dream Journal, January 21, 2024.

we travel

as a group through the

ca rpeted hallway. i push open the

door to the room. humid air, a library's still-

ness; windows, exotic plants, a floor lamp. natural

light illuminates the space backlighting the jewel-

ed leaves of philodendrons and mother-of-thou-

sands. (these plants are symbiotic, i can tell.)

tangled together, intertwined. the bespectacled man

admires a potted palm whose fronds culminate in bushy,

vermillion blossoms, impossibly heavy for their stems, like

grandiflora roses. bursts of blood orange, a feast against

the backdrop of verdant green. tendrils reach up, completing

the circuit. (these plants breathe as one.) they can be

carefully teased apart for inspection; i watch as my fingers

separate the fleshy curls, one by one, tracing their

origins to hanging baskets overhead. i wonder at

the purpose of our tour through this institu-

tional place. i wonder at the presence of the

lamp, made redundant by the bath of ultra-

violet light. roped with vines, is it

breathing too? does it turn to-

ward the sun and share

in collective

dreams?

September 2024 Erin Rehil

Photo courtesy of the artist. Taken 2014 in the artist's home, Hongqiao, Shanghai.