once, i was morpheus. dreaming only of dreaming dreams. i was insatiable in my weaving of thoughts. i loved the wandering & the wondering, the idea of heaven tasting like the last girl whose black nakedness was a moonlight in my room. her breasts curling into mine till there was no breath left. at night, i would turn into a sandman & there she would be, ready with her plump lips against mine — ravenous & hungry & electricity flowing through me through her through our glittering skins. i was terrified & i was intrigued. she reminded me of things i wanted & i wanted things that reminded me i could still be held & not break. I recoiled from the scene, opting for the ephemeral. when asked, i said: there is beauty in the night which does not extend to day. there is beauty in the way my eyes say i love you but my mouth remains shut. there is beauty in this terror. can’t you see, can’t you see, can’t you see? 

once, i was morpheus. dreaming only of simulations & manipulations. my body belonged to a body that belonged to a country that needed saving. i was insatiable in my want for “the one.” i traced the darkness of my skin but found it translucent. not enough light in, not enough light out. when he stretched his hand to me, i took it like it was made for my palm. there was a choice & he chose the right one. we travelled through time & space fighting side by side, brothers united in battle. finally, it was over just as it had begun & the scene dismantled itself like paper dissolving in water. it had been sweet to be held & understood & to believe that the truth reaches where the illusion does not. but was it not all an illusion? the impermanence of it hurt me. when asked, “the one” said: but there is beauty in it too, isn’t there? in the briefness of a revolution, in the waking of a nation, in the disruption of a system only for it to go back into place. there is beauty in the terror of knowing. can’t you see, can’t you see, can’t you see? 

once, i was morpheus. i woke up & still was.

About the author:

Amanda Nechesa is a writer and poet from Nairobi, Kenya, whose work seeks to explore the vulnerability of the human condition. Her writing has been published or is forthcoming in Brittle Paper, The Feminist Magazine, Isele Magazine, Fiery Scribe Review, Efiko Magazine, Kalahari Review, The Elephant, JAYLIT, Voices Of The Revolution poetry anthology, the first and second editions of Qwani, and elsewhere. Her flash fiction was also long-listed in the 2022 Kikwetu Journal flash fiction contest. When she’s not writing, you’ll find Amanda in places she’s not supposed to be, looking for a muse.

Feature image by ilham saputra on Unsplash