I dreamed of you last night.
I had not dreamed of you in at least half a year.
I dreamed I went into a place I knew.
It had changed.
It was disheveled, disarrayed
I bought a coffee
It was forty-nine cents.
I saw pictures of me
And newspaper clippings
Placed carefully, deliberately about the room.
I wondered why these reminders?
First a slow drip through the smoke detectors
(So many smoke detectors for one room)
But quickly, a flood
I started to panic
But I could not escape.
There were no longer any doors
Just myself, a room, rising water,
A forty-nine cent coffee
I felt a familiar fear like electric shocks in my veins
You pulled me onto the couch with you
And kissed my mouth, hungrily,
As if you wanted to consume me.
No matter what, you will always be mine,
I woke up screaming
And drenched in sweat.