Recording Dreams

This poem required a lot of fiddling for something of its length. I originally wrote it without any contractions at all, because I was being (perhaps overly) emphatic. Looking over it, I decided only a few of those words really needed it.

The poem is written like a response, as if speaking to whoever’s made that demand–to own your dreams.

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Recording Dreams

I won’t crack my skull

and spill my dreams into your pocket

They don’t belong there

They do not belong to you

So what if they’re lost?

If they leak out during the night —

dry into a crust I rub from my eyes

it’s my loss

not yours

If it’s meant to be

they will sidle out like fickle cats —

flirt with my hands before surrendering

to curl onto the open page