christmas eve dreams
of arson with three sisters and me
to make a new life for ourselves
outside of the oppressive home
but loving our family enough
to have failsafes in place
just in case
just in case
but the strangest part of the dream
wasn’t the reasoning,
or the 1800’s garb against
1900’s cityscape buildings,
or even the minute details of the
arson
itself —
it was the fact that the next day
we had to do it all again, the house
magically un-burned
everyone’s memories erased
except for ours
except for ours
[and why did it go so much worse
the second time around?]
kipventures 