I have dreams about my father.
From my point of view,
the dream picks up in the middle.
I never see him when he returns,
only after I’ve let him back in.
We’re laughing and hugging.
These are my nightmares.
And last night, I had a dream about you.
We were walking a trail barefoot,
clinging on to each other for balance.
I woke up with that sick pit in my stomach,
as I always do with the others.
There was a time when I feared losing you.
Now, my subconscious is left fearing you,
hoping to God you’ll never come back
and that I’ll never be weak enough to let you return.