Making Love With a Winged Man

November 26, 2011

I’m standing outside at night in a circle of women. I’m the first one to rise up slightly off the ground in defiance of gravity, my arms open but not raised to my sides; my hands are at hip level. I assume what I think of as a Christ position and remain floating there. The feeling I experience, the peace of this pose, dovetails with providing an example to the others in the circle, to showing them it can be done. I come down gently and cup both my hands together. I tell everyone, “Make fire” and I see flowers of fire blooming on their palms even as I concentrate on producing my own fire blossom. It’s important to do it with your palms and not your fingertips. Then I step forward toward the center of the circle and quickly touch my flame to the kindling of the large fire we’re building. I slip into other dreams…

…It’s early night or late dusk. I’m outside in an open field with other people walking toward a fence. As I reach it, it becomes an electric wire fence like the one we have around our vegetable garden. I slip between two wires (rather like the deer I saw do that once.) I’m part of a planned demonstration/protest to prove it’s possible to go through, to conquer, barriers. It’s related to the environment, and not being cruel to animals, and generally to everything that has to do with the earth. Without thinking about it, I rise straight up into the sky as people watch. I know they expect me to fall and die, and for a second I wander if that’s exactly what’s going to happen, because what I’m doing is physically impossible. But I decide I’m not going to fall, that I’ll show them. I twirl in place and remain airborne, showing everyone it’s possible. This is all in the service of an important, vital cause. Then I let myself rise up higher and higher, surrendering to the upward pull, ascending freely, without fear or effort. Eventually, I realize that yes, this is a dream, and I just sweep forward. I see stars above me as I let myself go, flying backward in a reclining posture, not seeking any control.

I don’t remember how I end up in a man’s arms. We’re both soaring/floating in the night sky. I’m lying on my back, but we’re in the dark sky. I arch my back and see my breasts as he kisses them, one after the other. I wonder what I look like but only briefly because I’m in my dream body so, naturally, I’m beautiful; it doesn’t really matter. We’re making love and I’m experiencing an easy and deep sexual pleasure. He’s inside me and I feel myself coming to a climax. I can see his broad bare shoulders and dark hair, which seems to frame his face, and there are what appear to be white wings rising from between his shoulder blades, not very large and resting in a closed position now. He looks down at me, looking me straight in the eyes. I’m staring directly at his face very close above mine and I don’t know him; he’s a total stranger and he looks very serious. He’s also very handsome, with pale skin and even, well defined features beneath deep, dark eyes. I’m thinking, wow, I don’t know this man and yet we’re making love. We don’t speak. I’ll never forget looking directly at his serious, intent, and yet also mysteriously expressionless face, although that’s not the right word because there definitely was an expression on it. Thinking about it now, the expression on his face seemed to be one of utter peaceful indifference perfectly combined with intense and profound emotion, a synthesis of the two.

As I embrace his powerful body, I think of asking him his name, but for some reason I hesitate to do so, and end up not asking him. I almost, almost climax, before I slip into a normal dream…

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