the other night i dreamed of a door that opened to a hill on a hill with one thousand prayer flags tied to the trees and the sun burning the earth making your lips shine iridescent with spit or something else entirely and you telling me you’re thirsty yes i know but for all the spotless sky there’s only the imprint of my palm over your eyes and when you know the forgetting is associative but you don’t lift a finger to stop it and all the memory falls away like tar crumbling off the end of a light do you return everything in common to remembering i could hear your voice if i just picked up the phone but every time get stuck on the thought us in the garden and my heel bleeding from a tile in the pool and the reflection in your left iris a trail of ants in the grass circling my blood all the way down the drain