Dreams

Dreams are porous; they leak out via the creases on the bed where my body lay, making a silhouette like a crime scene. You’re not part of this anymore, it’s purely a solo venture now.

You used to be. Now thoughts of you have curdled. These nights, you are confined to the bottom of secret files somewhere, snapped shut.

The new star of my dreams is an old ship discovered in Finland. She emerges with the grace of a killer whale, with a blushing red starboard. And she is magnificent. The daylight illuminates her first appearance this century. She is ancient; but the morning is new.

Elated, joyful at being part of this piece of history, me and my new beau fall asleep, clinging to each other as seahorses do, dreaming, in my dreams.