Fragmented Figments.

They say that a dream is the pathway to your subconscious.
You appeared at the doorway in a cream suit. I came to you in a cream gown with cream gloves (so retro!). You could not let us come to light so we squirreled indoors and had some food. You apologized for having to be hush-hush. I was Happy as long as you were around. I got into the cab but the driver pulled away without you. I kept yelling at him to turn around but he persisted in moving forward & missed several u-turns. By the time I returned to the spot, You were gone.
Sleep is a scarcity, of choice at times.

For if I were to close my eyes, I'll drift into the world which exists as a figment of my imagination.