how a white elephant is born

how about the the theory that nothing is ever really forgotten? the memory hovers in your head like a misplaced thing, or a car stalled at the on-ramp as the the traffic goes by. dreams are like that too, hiding then leaping out at you later that morning when you see a shoe or an ad for baby formula or a carton of orange juice. last night i dreamed i was pregnant and living at a sort of summer camp for unwed mothers. we spent most of our time in the fields picking papayas and touching each other’s bellies in old sweaters. this prompted me to think i should remember to count my breaths, meditate in the mornings, and run at the gym at night. i saw the 6 o’clock light hit the elementary school’s brick walls and turn into roselight, which is at least my second-favorite kind.