Outsider Dreams

We used to dream about flying. About blind babies with veiny, watermelon heads that lived behind the drywall, scratching their way around the house. We used to dream several times a night. Now we dream about reality. Boring dreams about authentic conversations. So we've begun imaginative therapy. We've started the discipline of reading Scandinavian folk tales before bed to fortify our dreams. Now the dead will be alive and we won't notice. Now a young girl will be an older boy, without question. Now our home is built on dirt. We are beginning to dream outside the walls again. From the ashes, like an eerie silent battlefield, DP