To sink into a decade

1 May 2018

It’s that unsettling uneasy time,
where everything is closed
and people go mad. I fall
asleep as though sinking.
In my dream I email my shrink.
We meet at the hospital.
Not the hospital that stole
my memory, no. It’s the one
that doesn’t lock its doors
and has a hot chocolate machine.
The bed looks comfy—
adjusts to my height. A nest
of baby spiders hatches in the mattress.
Crawl all over me. I am too tired
to move elsewhere. Brush them off.
They do not bite.

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