rush hour, day is dawning

We awake to the alarm

But when do we get to awaken to our hearts’ desires?

The dreams that kept me awake and semi-aware all night

seep into my lucid consciousness all day

and the cat who was bouncing across the house as if there

was a fire in the wee hours while I tried to sleep

is sleeping soundly all day on the giant orange pillow

that serves as a dogs’ bed.

I take out notebook paper and start journaling the

dream

which suffused my dream self with shame

and sorrow

but which I know is not a reflection of my true character.

And my girlfriend listens to my vulnerabilities and

she tucks them in her heart and she loves them,
as if they were hers, she cares for them, and plants them
in our garden.
she validates the inner girl of me

who longs to be heard, who would not speak for so long

who was afraid

but no longer is.

for the most part

Because she has found her voice. Because someone finally listened

when she spoke up.

The inner quiet child in me has found a home in her

and so now she is allowed to grow up and grow out.

She no longer has to hide behind “quiet” and “nice”

and “submissive” (although she still likes to pretend with that sometimes,

to play with control and submission and domination and who is

In Charge of us Who is in charge of me, who gets to take hold of the situation and say,

now, you do this.)

Maybe the girl in my dream

who I was dominating was me.