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Elephants, Lace

Again, this morning ritual
the alarm, the awkward scramble for the snooze button
so I can hurry after the tail of that last dream
before it slips out the window.
But now the door between worlds is drifting open
and I wonder if we need milk or what day it is or remember
an early morning meeting requiring coffee and donuts and what flavor
donuts and the real world
has wound itself around me again, like a cat
rubbing against your ankles.
I try to wake just enough to shoo it away
but it’s too late, that other world is gone again
Except for the certainty that it included elephants
and lace.

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