Inside of my mother's sleeping head I saw an orbit and inside of that orbit was the bed that we share. The bed was large enough for us both to sleep but not large enough for a couple's imagination to explore all of the possible ways to pet, lick, and fuck -- let alone actually find love. This is the same bed my mother lived nothing, felt nothing, and experienced nothing except for the night she liked violence and forced the will of a boy to run his tongue like strings of warm water across her rolling fields of wet grass. His cock packed 45,000,000,000 possible brother's and sister's into my mother's warm cunt oven that slowly cooked a single pig sperm that warped me seventeen years later, stuck inside of an orbit that slept on our bed.

The orbit was a large vat that was used to crush grapes for wine. Can you imagine the feeling if you have never done it? It feels like wet hard worlds exploding under your feet that goes right through your clothes. My mother and I drifted into another dream. "When you take them off you'll have juice all over," he told her. He was true, sticky stains all over, and the one who got away. He licked it off. When nothing was left he drenched his hands and smeared it on her face, needs, and belly licking. Sex smells like a warm season. She dreams of swimming in a fast river that was hard to move because of 500,000,000 other dreaming orbits becoming the water molecules down stream. Other orbits all around me was moving too, because smelling an earth on fire felt was like his dirty tongue was inside her dirty cunt. He was sucking her clit like raisins. The raw juice ran down his mouth and into a miniature highway where the trees grew faster, the lightning struck slower and my mother stopped dreaming of Ron.

In the morning we watched Cardinals suck carnations, tress leaking sap, and dandelions pollution the grounds that our brothers and sisters walk on. I could feel the infection filling the dirt as my teeth will never feel the same. My mother and I started digging holes in the front yard of our house to find a place we can call home. Inside of a dream I saw twice as large, heavy, as a fox on the run in fox hunting. I later discovered this is the way my mother and I saw the world. Through a kaleidoscope of broken glass. On that same day I stopped sleeping with my mother forever and bought her a bed large enough to find love -- let alone pet, lick, and fuck.