My friend Mo has been talking to people about dreams. It makes me think, and remember:
I once dreamed that I slept with my assailant, who is dead now. I was ashamed, and my family was appalled. Why would I be willing to have sex with the man who raped me?
I once dreamed that I killed my parents with a shot gun. I was of course, horrified.
I once dreamed I slept with my dad. What the fuck is that? "Where were you," asked a friend who I told. "On top," I said.
Once I was napping in the afternoon. I brought my hands in front of me, and I realized that my actual hands were tucked between my legs and I understood I was lucid dreaming. I at once seized the opportunity and decided that I would fuck in this dream. I got up and walked to my bedroom door, opened it and a line of men stood in the hallway. I invited the first one in and he sat on my bed and took off his shirt. His handsomeness started to fade away and he became dumpy and bald, and I fought hard against it and then woke. How disappointing...
When I wasn't talking to my friend Tori, I dreamed that I would go to her house when she wasn't at home and sleep in her bed.
If I could, I would visit you in a dream tonight, because I can't visit you otherwise. You would find me in your bed. You would be confused but relieved. After we kiss, I would ask you, "If you could choose, would you be a boy or a man?"