In my dream we are closing the accordion gate on the door when a green concrete sphere falls to the sidewalk from an upper story.

In my dream her head is still and serene. Her eyes are open. Someone says “Find what matters.”

In my dream three of us head down the street on the way to investigate a heist. As we pass the construction on our left, a man emerges from a door and falls into step behind me. A couple of careful glances and I can see that he is the doppelganger of the man walking in front of me.

In my dream a jovial bus employee has brought his beautiful infant daughter to work in a carrier. “She’s gonna be running this place pretty soon ” I say aloud after seeing her alert smile.

In my dream I am hoping for love from him as the light turns around the room.

In my dream it’s become clear that the camera person has died.

In my dream I’m arguing to stay and a photograph of dumplings awakens their smooth, fatty taste on my tongue.

In my dream they mirror each other and I see part of a face.

In my dream it’s the end of a trip and I walk along the street with two younger British people . I start to say how “immensely grateful” I am to have gotten to hang out with them when one of them cuts me off and it becomes clear that they’ve never liked me very much.

In my dream the animals head is round. We are moving backwards. I’ve left my stuff under the bedframe.

In my dream there are grassy streets.

In my dream I’m interviewing Joey Ramone over the phone while I shop through a flea market. There is a great tin lunchbox on the crowded table under the train tracks.

In my dream there is a mobile shed with rounded corners and a white insignia painted on the side.

In my dream they are moving through woods and streets. They are bent and flowery.

In my dream there are three steps but the third never arrives. The apartment is full of sex.

In my dream the kaleidoscoping letters are part of the casting call. I slide out of the apartment and watch him pack a few moving boxes out in the tall yellow grass.

In my dream the night is beautiful but they can’t hear me when I try to tell them that the building they are on the roof of is actually on fire, green flames curling around the concrete.

In my dream the thing in my hands is moving and part of the background.

In my dream: some hope of repair.