Comets struck my Girlfriend
Dreamed 1998/8/9; painted 1999, acrylic on 12" vinyl disk; by Chris Wayan.
I'm hugging my Designated Girlfriend. I like her and find her sexy so I don't really mind that we skipped the courtship phase, just got Chosen For Each Other.
I'm perched on the edge of a low stage, she's sitting a step below me; I massage her head and neck and upper back. Feels good. I'm supposed to proceed down her, ritually, kissing her everywhere. But I'm so dehydrated that my mouth's rubbery-dry; I'm afraid it won't feel sexy to her. I'm ashamed, feel inadequate. Can't I remember to drink enough fluids?
Then I notice a few dark spots 4-5 cm wide, angling down her shoulders, breasts and belly, in a diagonal line. They look just like craters/impact bruises from a comet-chain, like Shoemaker-Levy hitting Jupiter. They could be sunspots though. But I'm pretty sure they're in a straight line, so comet impacts are way more likely.
That means I'm kissing a planet. Oh, no, my girlfriend's a gas giant!
And so am I, I guess... No, I'm smaller, skinner, rockier, dryer. A Martian world.
I better drink more water. Mars didn't, and look what happened.
NOTES ON WAKING
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