Saturday night I dreamed.
I was roaming in my Nana's house
My fingers tracing the walls filled with
Hundred of photographs, each in a
                    (yo)u-
                   nique
                    frame.
I stopped at one of my mother
Standing at a beach.
Skeletal; she was gone. Skin drawn tight over ribs, tibiae, humeri.

I remembered Sunday morning when I washed out my cereal bowl in the sink.