Lucid Dreams of Bowling Alley Men

He had straight blonde hair and was young.
Perhaps I was too
He showed me a large, luxurious bedroom with many windows
I loved it,
but it was a guest room.
 
Who was he?
He worked at a bowling alley.
Wha?
No...
Well, maybe it's okay
 
He showed me another beautiful guest space.
Why?
And what made him keeper of the keys?
 
I change into a clingy, champagne-colored dress
It looks great
How is this possible?
 
He's wonderful
He's an idiot
No, he's perfect
but he's leaving
 
Why?  
 
That's what happens when you wake up
he tells me
as the world vignettes
 
You can see me again  
in another dream.
 
"Nah" I decide
as I awaken fully
bracing for another resigned
weekday morning rush.