Give me dreams

I think
They’ll come for me again
In the dark.

When I close my eyes
My dreams teem with the undead

Choices I have yet to make and
Faces that return from decades passed
Loom at out me through crooked ruins.

I am a seeker of stories through the night
I live the fear so I may learn to write.

Dreams are a constant blessing to me
They remind my heart what is significant
By contrasting what is not.

I give thanks to the dream-weaver…
I give also nighttime and a blank slate.

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