In my dream I’m racing back through the hallway to tell the three jokes I’m no longer sure about.

In my dream I can push the shredder in the shopping cart.

In my dream we can return it and the kitten is tiny and frantic.

In my dream doughy faces: “wrath”.

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 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 our sex is an optimistic ritual, and supervised.

In my dream the right post of my glasses falls off, having come unscrewed. Small parts scatter across the carpet.

In my dream: a rounded field.

In my dream the shape of a shirt thrown over a back.