Last night I dreamt you opened doors for me.
A door to a castle; a door to a garden.

Not much to interpret I laughed still dreaming.

When we were small, we told stories all night.
Just one more thing one more thing I have to say, we said.

The doors were wide open, we were our own village,
We ran wild in the woods, we rushed through the rushes, oh.

Picked our way through barbed wire,
Feared snakes in trees not.
Feared our mother who was not, not.

Sometimes you were so kind.

Sometimes you were so mean.
Doors closed. Letters like spears came thrust through their drops,
we read them not.

We rammed those doors shut with those spears.

We never talked, we never told stories, we lauded our silence,
Heart blood was shed, red wine stained on a white shirt, loss, rage, secrets

blurted

slurs, ugly, ugly again, ugly as sin. You wrote it on a paper.

It was a sin.

Last night I dreamt you opened doors for me.
White light streamed in; you stood and smiled

Your warm arm curved out to me, come right through, come here, you said.