Figure this one out....

I dreamt last night that I had built a log cabin somewhere in a remote Valley in Montana and it was a very Tori Amos winter outside, phallic icicles; gables of bleach white snow, prismatic flakes falling like scattered constellations--inside I was with Swissy-Missy; the tangental dream angel that nocturnally represents the universality of the female genus--that elusive Other I find myself getting glimpses of in temporal daytime, the sleek lavender shadow of her body at dusk...the totality of my creative urges splattered at the lips of her every movement....in my dreams we were drinking cider and making love in a bed heaped with afghans and blankets and at the end our bodies formed one vessel before separating and I kissed her forehead and she asked me, simply, to read to her which I did. I read Lorrie Moore's Bird's of America outloud, accompanied by the scent of candles, volleying my vision between the printed sentence and her dried-sweaty forehead which glistened like a frozen pond.

And it was perfect. I watched her body form alphabetical shapes and her lips grunt vowels as she rubbed up against me. My voice seemed to lull and tame the subtle flagellations of her body and I realized midway through that it was really Missy who was holding me up. It was Missy (Universal Centerfold of the Cosmos) that received my warbled sentences. It was her presence that I was living for--that I had sworn my allegiance to and I was content. I was happy. I had nestled my every creative and sensual and spiritual impetus into one pocketed moment that had somehow effaced all notion of time to produce one minute of peace.

At that moment I left my body. I saw myself holding the girl of my dreams and then, I watched as my body pulled out of my body; like I was struggling to slough a pair of wranglers before stepping into a pissing-hot shower.

I watched the two people (myself and the female) exhaust prayers on the bed as one pulsating organ. I was naked and the snow tempest whipped and slapped precipitating static on the side of the cabin I had built. I stepped outside and was attacked by a bear. A grizzly brown mammalian ancestor. I was naked and the bear swiped its paw in the direction of my genital. I then lunged at the feral beast, wresting my every fiber into its mane. It was like I had to protect the couple (myself and dreamissy) from the advances of the creature. It was like I knew if I didn't wound the creature the couple inside would die.

Eventually the bear lodged his paws into my genital and I writhed with furor. I lashed back at him, digging my nails into his coat, using my teeth to slowly peel his own fur from him. When I was finsinhed the bear was a pulpy carcass of bones and meat and I donned his own hide like a cape; a trophy for my kill.

When I turned around I was all alone. The cabin seemed to have never been built and the girl of my dreams was nowhere to be found. It was as if they had been scared off by my true spiritual essence while I was trying all the while to protect them.

Only then did I feel cold. The bristling wind unizpped my every pore. I tugged the bear hide tightly around my limbs but I still felt completely isolated and alone. My whole body was one frosty windshield that was about ready to crack. I felt like I had spent all this time killing myself for something and someone that did not exist and that all I had to show for my hard work was the furry remnant of the creature that had wounded my masculinty and left me out in the cold to die.