The duration of that whistled song

the emblem of the dream
created to remember
ossifies within the dream
within which it was observing
an enormous skull cathedral
transformed by the dream
edges turning into balconies
spires and bell towers
rising from the dome
ornately carved doorways
where each tooth once
shook in its socket
around this grows a world
pools of aqua blue water
under the cranial dome
now painted with allegorical frescoes
the floor is pink marble
and statues carved from coral
smooth as jade
represent other memories
in another dream made
two women are seducing me
one old and one young
sisters mothers daughters
each playing off the other
to distract me from the dream
I am holding in my memory
their arms and limbs
wind around my body
hot pink flesh tentacles
each a long tongue
with gasping vaginas
whispering my name
sucking on my skin
all seeming to say the same thing
forget forget forget
abandon to oblivion
drink deeply from our lips
forget forget forget
as the tongues and vaginas
lick and lick and lick
I imagine this dream
as a pulsing diorama
in the center of the skull
as I look down from the hole
at the top of the dome
like looking into
an Easter sugar egg
I can see myself remembering
staring up from between
the tentacles and limps
into my own eye looking in
looking in to
the remembered emblem
of my skull cathedral
but having forgotten
the reason why I created it
again the child whistling
during the crucifixion
and that melody is all that remains
the vague sense that something
tremendous happened
in the duration
of that whistled song