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The Dream
by Mary Sullivan

I closed my eyes and imagined my life
was a dream: I didn't remember being a wife.
I woke to the door opening or shutting and there
was a humming coming down the hall and somewhere
shoes were falling to the floor. I couldn't see
him behind the wall, but I knew he was still there
and I was alone‹‹dreaming of being

Alone. Once I even smelled him when the wind was blowing
through the house and I hid, breathing in lilac and sky‹‹
hours passed‹‹days‹‹before I opened my eyes
to the darknees all around. Wild flowers and grass
had grown up over the windows, leaves
stole the light. I stepped through the rings
of dust around the house to find that he

had already gone, leaving me to my dream.

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