Onion Plant

In my dream,
he brings me a onion plant.
He says I have nothing,
he says how can I live like this?

I buy him a carton of Winston’s for Christmas.
I keep them in the bottom drawer of the bathroom.

In my dream
I am practicing
how to tell him this dream.

Bells, vibration, and melody wake us up.
I was in a cabin, I say, I had nothing.
You invited people over. You gave me an onion plant.

Cool, he says. The bulk of him warm
and he’s as foreign as a new animal.

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