Dreams

She turns. 
The shift of bedding pulls me closer.

She moves in and her lips part. 
I inch closer.

She whispers, “Ham or bacon?” 
I’m speechless. What about sausage?

Anguish, anxiety, terror, and rhetorical questions abound. 
How could she do this to me? 

I toss and turn away. 
I scream out.

Flash.
My eyes open in daylight’s embrace.

She turns. 
Her eyes are wide and afraid. 

“McDonalds breakfast,” I say. 
She gives me her back.