Where do you keep your dreams?

My Flask by Maria Solomilla Mealla

I keep a flask of dreams strapped tightly to my thigh.
It's cold at first, but speeds to the warmth of my blood.
I take it with me where I can't afford the price of dreams,
Where dreaming is socially unacceptable,
Or where they only sell a certain type of dream.

I share it with the hopeful.
I know that look when they walk through open doors,
End up at the wrong place, or at the right place,
And then realize it's not what they wanted.

I slip it in their hands as we lock eyes with complicity
No explanations, no questions asked
I watch them drink, watch dreaming take effect.
I watch their eyes sparkle and skin flush
The warmth runs through their veins,
their hearts beat hard.

I watch that moment, wait for it.
That one specific beat in time in which they clearly know
What they want, what it takes, what they have to do
My heart pounds for their dreams to happen

"Lets share dreams!" my eyes scream
"I'll walk the journey with you
We'll hold hands, I'll dream them too."
My flask is handed back to me
We hold it together, don't look away, don't let go.

And suddenly it doesn't matter where we are.