Morpheus sauntered in early last night.

Cozied up to me in an all-too-familiar fashion

— which I permitted, and after only one beer! —

And whiled away the time

Whispering passing stories in my ear,

The sort half-heard and not really attended

for hours

Until last call

When with those fateful words

— Be right back—

he left me.

He was my ride.

So I waited

For his return

Listening to the sound of stillness

And counting the cars on the darkened street on one hand

four hours

Until

Just as I can feel the day about to breathe awake

Here’s Oneiros.

I catch a ride that seems important

But is short-lived.

In the light,

I cast about for a memory,

Words

Like trying to catch snowflakes in the sun

Vanish.

I am left wandering the kitchen

Looking for my coffee,

Feeling the ache in my rib cage from the corset I was wearing

In some dream out of time.