That was a different dream, not the one last night where you couldn't get the door unlocked. The other dream was when we walked east on Capitol Dr. toward the water.
We explored the caves, the hidden grottos of Lake Michigan. We walked so far with torn experience and unforgiven memories. The sky dimmed in the late afternoon. We tried to reach each other in the fading red moments before awakening.
Last night you couldn't get to me. The locks were made up of the Crucifixion and a nun kneeled before me. You were frocked out in gray and threw kisses.
We woke in the same bed where you vanished quietly to your whispers of regret. I remain unseen and unloved. A torrent of feeling sprang from my soft and sorry, lonely gray bed.