No Need to Worry

Last night I told her about the dream I've been having.  A fence, built out of thick white elastics, intertwined like a cat's cradle, surrounding a tiny red wood house.   I told her how I tried to gnaw my way out and spat out a tooth.  I didn't want to tell her about the night I dreamt I pulled out my tongue.  Or when there was something, all presence and shadowy feeling, climbing over the wall.  Panic rose in my chest, stalled in my throat, and I couldn't move.