i had a dream i was crushing jugs of buckwheat honey
beneath my palms, and the plastic fractured and crumbled
apart like wax, spilling across the wooden shelves, piling up at
the edge before sheeting down to my feet, ending in tawny spirals--

that i was fighting with God, who was at the top of the stairs, hidden by the turn in the hallway, doing laundry--and how I stood on the first step as the vision wobbled and knew I wouldn't make it in time--even if I took the steps by threes.

He was saying something, but i couldn't hear him.  Something about me, maybe, but the dream was ending. The dream was ending and God was in my house, doing my laundry--

I woke up from the soundest sleep I've had in years.