The House with All the Doors

I don’t remember most of my dreams.
Almost always losing them as I pass back across the wall of sleep.
But friends tell me of that place and I believe it is another place.
With different rules. Different people. Different loves.
Sometimes I remember a house with an impossible number of rooms.
An impossible number of doors.
Water. Fire. Green fields. The stir of nails on my palm.
The House with All the Doors is a twangy meditation on escaping into a world of dreams and whether or not that's ok.