dream two

every time i dream of you
you’re leaving.
in the chaos 
of my sleeping mind 
you’re ready to go

this time you’re in fatigues,
green and brown 
like the earth and grass
you lay on before 
you went to sleep.

you held a duffel bag
a black burden that looked
heavy as the smothering night.

i’m wearing a dress the color
of a white winter sky,
a blood red scarf
like a severed umbilical cord
tied about my neck

i do not understand
these troubling dreams.

you looked at me
round shouldered, fatigued
(the garment you wore?)

i don’t understand
the symbols in dreams.

was the bag you shouldered
the weight of your addiction?

i don’t get these things
scattered like detritus
in my dreams

i wanted to hold you
before you went away 
a long, strong hug
around your neck,
but you slipped
out of my arms
and went away.

i woke up wondering
if i’ll ever make sense
of the senseless things
that happen in my dreams.