CALL ME BELOVED

I walk alone in my dreams, like last night –
shuffling down the fun house corridors
of the home our dream-selves bought.
Half sleeping half waking I wandered,
puzzling at paint colors, or
the magnitude of rooms, endless –
one doorway bleeding into the next.

I halted with each step, handling artifacts
of the last owners, left behind
like they vanished where they stood.
I became the curator
of these invented lives.
Each item pained me,
haunted and imbued with
lives which never were,
as if I had never
given them the chance.

2015 Poem-A-Week 13: March 26 – April 1