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Dreams are Finite

Remember to Always Recycle

By TracyPublished about a year ago 1 min read

She woke up with the remnants of the dream clinging to the back of her eyelids. She carefully kept her eyes closed while trying to put the fragments in some sort of order. As the pieces connected the details of the dream started to fill in. She could remember the weight of the baby as she swung her up off of the car seat. The movement of her warm limbs as she melted into her embrace. The sweet soft smell of the hair as it brushed against her lips when she planted a gentle kiss on the baby’s head.

When she thought she had the dream firmly coalesced into a memory she reached over and grabbed the suction cups from her nightstand drawer and placed them on her still closed eyes. One quick gentle squeeze and the dream was pulled into the glass beaker. She opened her eyes, disconnected the hose and put the stopper in the small glass container. Safe.

Tonight she would pour it into her tea before bed. She wondered how many nights she would be able to recycle it.

slam poetry

About the Creator


Vegetarian/Mostly Vegan, Holistic Nutritionist,cat loving, Stage IV cancer ninja 💜 (stg 3-2011 stg 4-2014) Chemo for life

I write so I don’t scream.

Not a fan of taking anything too seriously


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