Pipe Dream

Last night I had a very vivid dream - I dreamed of joists and beams and pipes and wires, of marble white and black and gray and cream, of leaks and dust and accidental fires, of two by fours, three quarters, triple panes, cast iron, polished chrome and satin nickel, of polishes and finishes and grains, of lovers past - yes, Morpheus is fickle - of new beginnings for the older ends, of vintage but minimalistic faucets, of once but not again forever friends, of wooden deck with cables stretched across its unfinished length of brown ipe wood, of everything that hides behind the covers, of all the plans that were misunderstood, and then again of present perfect lovers - then I woke up all sweaty from the strife, and I admitted, paraphrasing Ovid: I’m glad that I was born to live this life, when all we got to struggle with is COVID.

For such is life