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Waking Up

Waking up
The dream was tinged
With the taste of loss.
As the colors of the sea viewed
Sunset faded and the blue of
My ceiling materialized,
I could swear there was sea salt
Lingering on my lips.
It had been a sail boat.
With a large purple patchwork quilt
Whipping away from, instead of with,
The wind.
It was only me but I knew the boat
Could find its way.
I remember thinking
“I came here alone,
But I don’t feel lonely.”
The loss on my tongue wasn’t sad.
It was simply the knowledge that
Those who are meant to make big
Changes in the world
Don’t get to have certain other things.
It was a willful and happy surrendering.
I wondered, as the dream faded,
What I gain from this giving up.

Malorie Spreen