“Dream Momma, Here is the end of the dream so far. Suddenly I am in a black lace shawl, the fringes swaying seductively around my hips. A tortoise shell comb imbedded with sapphires the color of the sea is on my head. As the music begins the horseman moves towards me. He is dressed in a white silk shirt, open at the neck and tight black leather pants. He has a fine wool cloth wrapped tightly around his waist the same deep blue as the sapphires. I suddenly realize we are in Buenos Aires on Caminito calle near the Riachuelo River during a time long past. I smell the pungency of the meat salting plants and the boite is crowded and noisy. The small dance floor we are on is surrounded by other bailadoros restlessly waiting their turn to dance the sensuous tango. As my gaucho stamps his thick heels onto the wooden dance floor the top of his body remains very rigid and his eyes never leave my face. I think of the stallion as I flick my shawl, lift my chin, and stare back, the music wrapping hotly around us as the crowd falls silent. As we effortlessly move as one I know if we can complete the dance I will be free. Just before the gaucho fades from my dream I smell the horse and the sweet earth on his skin and I bury my face in his neck murmuring, “Be mine, be mine, be mine. I awake, heart pounding.” (sic)
Dream Momma is relieved to learn the gender identity of this dreamer as it will help her help the dreamer (see the two previous posts in this dream series here and here).
This article appears in Apr 14-20, 2010.