I dreamt of a vessel
For dreams.

A wide-mouthed urn of
Ancient stone,
Worn but sturdy
Always ready for more.

A container for dreams that
Never came true.

Inside was a woman
Wrapped in a lover’s embrace.
In the morning she lay crying,
Bruised, abused, broken.
Alone.

A man walked
Along a deserted beach.
By day he rubbed salve
Into the raw spots
On his stump
Where the new prosthesis
Chafed.

A young girl giggled,
Trolled the mall with her friends.
At school, she winced from
Whispers, taunts and
Ugly words.

I wondered which one
Of my dreams
Would end up stored for eternity,
In the vessel for dreams that
Never came true.

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