You Own My Dreamlife

How you did it I’ll never know.
I don’t recall any realtors
or even a closing

but, somehow, you became
the owner of my dreamlife.
Let’s say my head hits the pillow
and I’m carried off to Scotland.

You’re already there waiting
in the highlands, surrounded
by cliffs and sheep
and it’s all so green.

Ok, so maybe the next night
I end up in Guatemala,
planning to row on the lake.

By the time I get to the shore
you’re there with a boat,
an amazing lunch,

and you’re willing to do the rowing.
Why would you want to
own my dreamlife, again?

One time your dad said:
“You got what you want girl,
I hope you like it.” That’s a phrase
you might want to consider.

It seems like a lot of work to me
I mean, I’m not saying I mind a bit,
because I don’t,

but why, exactly, would you want to
own my dreamlife?
I’ll buy it back from you, if you’d like,
but not at retail.

I can see you maybe
wanting to be a part
of the ones I remember,
but, what about the ones I don’t?

Seriously, doesn’t that seem like
going to a whole lot of trouble
for nothing?

I guess that’s up to you to decide.

How you came
to take possession of all this, though,
and with my bedroom door locked,
well, that’s something
I’ll dream about
but probably never know.

–October 26, 2015