dreams caught (8)

the worst part is that I move so slowly
I should be frightened
     by the thousand pounding fists
     by the thousand screaming voices

but I just lazily roll over
as if coaxed by a lover's touch
     by his warm breath along my neck
     by his warm hand along my thigh

MOVEMOVEMOVE

when I awake I am already sitting
in darkness
panting with fear
   

dreams caught (7)

the road split

lifted by a thunderous roar

a stranger’s arms wrapping my waist,

so completely his hands met again at my back

pulling me

my heels dragging

my nails digging

my mouth sobbing

yelling

more afraid of leaving 

than of the hole that appeared

keys

some people have key rings filled with keys- heavy, jingly, bulging, obtrusive keys.
i cannot imagine how so many keys are necessary.
what could they possibly open?

the back door to a secret lover's house...
the never opened lock box filled with ancestral betrayals...
the fence erected to protect azaleas from roaming critters...
the shed that provides escape from and escape to...
the gateway to an imaginary land, ruled by dragons...

i am down to three keys.
only two serve any purpose, function as necessities in my daily life
car
house
the third locks something forgotten, but i can't seem to throw it away.
what if, someday, i find the lock, and behind it are all the joys i have been missing?
or, perhaps, some day, i will discover that this key will seal the lock on all the places i no longer need to visit.

key rings fill as lives fill, empty as lives simplify.
they are a collection of meaning, evidence of the complexities and intricacies of our daily lives,
evidence of existence, of living in a world valuable enough to lock.