Can I tell you a secret? I feel really awkward everytime I let so much time pass between blog entries. It’s like, if I don’t touch base with a lover after we’ve been together, and let too much time pass, then we bump into each other again and don’t know what to say.

Um, hi. My name is May Ling Su. Remember me? We’ve met before.

So I’ll jump right in and let you in on something really private. Two dreams I had over the past week. The only ones I remember after waking. Actually, the only ones I shook myself awake from. Here it goes:

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Dream #1: I am back in high school. I went to a Catholic all-girls school all through elementary and high school. We are moving benches around tables. A classmate hands me a piece of paper with poetry scribbled all over it. I read it and wake up. I felt the mad need to write. Like Tenacious D’s “Greatest Song in the World,” this poem is not what was written in my dream. It’s just a “tribute” to the poem written in my dream.

The Oldest Lovers in the World

I sat on a warm rock
Trapped between folds of
The sweetest hot honey a female
Ever held between her legs
A large wave of icy ocean
Water crashed on top of us
Shaking us, but
Not off our rock
We remain, fucking.

A pterodactyl, or maybe
A pelican swooped by
Swiftly swiping
An undulating fish
Inches from my skin
Precisely with dragon eyes
I do not lose my beat.
We remain, fucking.

A crab crawls on my leg
Curious, hitching a ride
Or looking for lunch
It tickles my hairs
Pinches and needles
I twitch and I tremble
We remain, fucking.

Sand sticking, seashells cupping, mist rising, fucking fucking fucking fucking fucking

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Dream #2: I am in a room. This guy, Benjo, who lived in my neighborhood where I grew up, is in the room with me. I pull him to the bed and straddle him. We fuck.

(Disclaimer: In real life, I never had sex with Benjo. I don’t know why I dreamed of him. We hung out when we were teens. He was Edwin‘s buddy. I remember Benjo making fun of erotic poetry I had given Edwin – why Edwin let him read it in the first place is so sophomoric. Anyway… back to the dream.)

While I am on top of him, he mumbles something about sisters.

“Did you have sex with my sister,” I ask.

“Yesterday,” he answers.

I thrust him deeper into me. I want to fuck him better.

Then, my sister comes into the house. Benjo and I stop fucking, trying to hide from her.

Suddenly Benjo isn’t Benjo anymore, it is Jay. My sister enters the room. The door has a window with little shutters letting light into the shady room, casting striped shadows. Strange creepy two-dimensional people are sliding into the house. Characters from a movie. Jay, my sister and I hide in bed.

I woke up with my heart pounding.