Changing Dreamscapes

I was wearing a tuxedo
large and imposing
as if my body deep
inside the clothes
was sheltered by a sort
of film noir armour

stadium theatre seating
black walkways and walls
with a large platform afixed
between the balcony and us
lower people placed below
gazing upon the stage

the show started with music
beaming from the mouth
of a blue dressed woman
careening down the aisle
screeching operatic notes
echoing the room full

each presenter greeted sonorously
eluvial blast painting
meaning into motion against
black suits and white dresses
in some sort of award ceremony
beholden to no subject matter

the irony complete when I
pulled from my seat am pushed
up the aisle to be introduced
by the blue woman's flurries
casting a spell upon the audience
creating light upon my soul

with terrible ease the music
turns sour as if harpies
stole her voice ripping
notes through stale air
leaving me to stand alone
in terrible musical solitude

the audience knew me then
as an imposter belonging to
nothing but bad dreams always
ending with sweat and panic
blurry eyes and questions like
- for what do I deserve these dreams? -

and then midst the booes
a gentle hand grabbed my arm
pulling me away from all
negativity which has defined
my dreams surrendered ceding me
anxious under foreign blankets

instead I was comforted
and defended by a voice
neutralizing the music
with calming words that bit
through black bitterness
lifting an anchor from the ether

I just wonder
how did you know to come
to my dreams?

everything is changing
including sleep itself
saved from the sounds
my dreams
for the first time
comfort me

I remember
not once did I set sight
on the stage

I am certain it
would have been empty

I remember
your hands
full