Dreaming?

I find you,
and your ways,
very distasteful,
as we revolve for days.

Rocking away,
on the raft in the puddle.
The real intentions...
they begin to muddle.

As the roots sprout
from my fingers and toes-
this planet is my home
and I do not want to go.

Unable to awaken
from this lucid dream, I turn.
Staring faceless in the mirror,
yet my eyes they still burn.