Two nights ago, I had a dream that I was in a village square, and I saw a sloth on a chain. I started to walk over to the sloth, and then I realized that a chimpanzee was holding the chain. The chimp stood and faced me, baring his teeth in a threat. With his free hand, he made a throat slitting motion. I realized that the sloth looked like a child’s drawing version of a sloth – the lines were all wrong, the face was awkward and frightening. I turned away. Not my circus, not my sloth, I guess.
Last night, I dreamt that I was at my boyfriend’s funeral. He was wearing a black cloth mask that covered his entire face. He wore an ill-fitting black suit. I recognized him by his beautiful hands, and the tattoo sleeves peeking under his suit sleeves. I walked through the crowds of people at the funeral and saw Soledad O’Brien, and my boyfriend’s grandmother, holding a fat cat, sitting on a sofa. I returned to his body and knelt beside him at the guest book table, head down on the guest book, sobbing, one hand reached out to touch his but not quite making it.
