The Dream about You (VI)

The dream about you
came suddenly. It was like
a dream. Any other dream
I mean, even a dream
not about you. As if
the night were going
on and on but then
it was day and you
flew from miles and
miles away into my
kitchen and calmly sat
watching me prepare a
chicken for roasting, coating
its raw slippery skin with
butter like any other
of those many chickens
I’ve roasted in the last
months, the dream was
extraordinary but really
just everyday. I mean
like any other day. I remember
only the feeling and
not the plot if there
was a plot. So it
isn’t really a story
now, I guess, but a something
in the back of my mind. I
mean the feeling
of the dream, not the
events or sleeping. Maybe
not even the dream itself.
But it I mean the feeling
maybe was
about you. If the dream
was I don’t know.

—EWW