Eclipse

There is a house in my dreams. I visit it often. It is by the sea. Sometimes the house is scary and broken, other times the house smells like bread and there are baby clothes hanging on the line outside. Sometimes I sit and watch the sunrise or sunset. Sometimes I am alone and other times I am with someone. Sometimes I am scared, sometimes I am wounded. Once, I was pregnant. I think of this house and wonder if it ever existed, but I'm sure it has, in some way or another. My thoughts, dreams, hopes, are fragments of stories I've read, people I've met, places I've gone to. I am the unremarkable collage of a lifetime of observations.