Wyrd

i.
I had a dream last night of a young woman who arrived at my door and asked of me to take her home. I never knew who she was, but I immediately said yes. We got in the car. She told me, "I don't have many words left." In her voice I heard the quickening keys of a typewriter.

ii.
we came at last to the river,
beautiful blooming statues
floated down the shining waters
waiting for their lithe bodies to be pulled from the currents,
they tipped gently over the horizon
like it didn't hurt at all -
we stood on the banks
next to the tree roots thin and tangled, a frantic lacework
slick and dripping with tears,
we waved
our heads bobbing
our eyes widened
as we tried our hardest not to be afraid -

iii.
it was here we parted ways.
froze our hopes.
put our idioms under nitrogen.
i felt the shudder of day in my hands.
the ground unbraiding itself.
inertia fleeing from the mountains.
the night sublimated in reverse onto our heads.

--
Incoherence, incoherence, incoherence.
Please tell me your thoughts?