Interpretation Of A Dream Poem by Joan Xie

I was driving the Beetle
while you
on your motorcycle, following me
like a lightning bolt chasing
a ring of fire.

You followed me to the wilderness.
I entered about a house,
opened a fridge,
took out a plate of sliced watermelon,
fiddled with a stem of carnation,
a window opened, dusk …

A gang busted in like a submerged island
reemerged,
they grabbed my hair,
kicked me hard on the stomach,
and talked cruelly in Portuguese.

Behind the window you stood
like a petrified stump,
tears streaming down your cheeks.
Moon came out, thin and crisp.

O how you woke up to a shocking revelation
that you might love someone
more than yourself
in this world.

And how
everything is just a dream.