remembering dreams over and over, remembering dreams and having the same dream again

the dream with the tunnel under the buildings; in this one every time the entrances must be dug out of where they are hidden, in planters and under steps, opened only with the help of others because i don’t have the strength. in this one i eventually connect with two others enough for us to pull ourselves from the maze and save each other, but other people are left behind, and i wake before we reach a point of any real safety.

the dream with the terraces in layers of concrete, making a cliff down to the ocean; in which the only other figure was someone with whom i feel totally open and without fear, and the two of us were open to each other in ways we don’t need or want in real life but which in the dream reflected the ways we actually are at ease together.

the dream with the low open house full of sun with the door that opens to a beach: once, in this dream, i lay on the floor between two beds and the house was full of my friends, and one of them stood over me protectively and then fell on top of me full of bullets. the second time, in this dream, i lay on the floor between two beds and the house was full of my friends, and one of them came and sat beside me and stripped the packaging off my headphones with their teeth for me.

the dream with the clean all-white upholstery and the hotel bed where i hold someone and they tell me, slowly, stumblingly, how much they– and if i could, just for a moment, let them– and if i’d forgive them, if i’d allow them this desire even if i could never– and then i touch their face slowly and carefully, and then woke up in a hotel bed glowing for nearly ten minutes of selective amnesia in which i forget which things i am allowed to want