In my dream doughy faces: “wrath”.
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In my dream
In my dream he won’t watch the dog when I leave and he doesn’t like it when I teasingly compliment his partner even though we’ve been fucking for years.
In my dream
In my dream it’s day four locked inside the apartment and information is scarce. When the cars reverse direction up the street we can’t tell what they are running from. I’m pissing into a box, carefully. We never get the food we want.
In my dream
In my dream our sex is an optimistic ritual, and supervised.
In my dream
In my dream the right post of my glasses falls off, having come unscrewed. Small parts scatter across the carpet.
In my dream
In my dream: a rounded field.
In my dream
In my dream the shape of a shirt thrown over a back.
In my dream
In my dream wading through stacks of instructions then: “Ugh, nobody wants to do a shot!”
In my dream
In my dream when I arrive at the top floor every surface is covered in undulating tiles of marble: it’s now a hospital for the remaining aged members of this blindingly wealthy family. They gasp and plod among the doctors and lights. I’m leaving and how will I find the things I had stashed earlier?
In my dream
In my dream there is cabbage cooked in red wine near Rockefeller center and a fur coat on the stones.
In my dream
In my dream when I put on the black cotton cassock and kiss his feet as he walks, it’s kind of a joke and also kind of a fetish thing.