12: Dream

Perhaps I wade through the grass, or else I’m only watching it on film. A man joins me. When we climb into a car, I find a second man waiting. The first man stabs the second man, who yells so long and loud it must be real. I grieve, but do nothing. Maybe it is just a movie. The men are strangers, but the dream is about you telling me I could choose to be fine. As if I could reach into my sleep and take out that dream like taking a toad from a jar. Like you vanished in the dark.