In the dream you are
You, but with long hair,
Which somehow doesn’t
Appear pretentious or arrogant
You hover above and behind me,
Breath trickling gently down my neck
For some reason
I wonder to myself (as my face flushes and my skin is on fire) “why?”
Your arms appear first at my side
You are the bent branches of my favorite tree.
Then, your hands are clasped; buckled at my waist.
I am alive now
Was I aware that I was dead?
and I am home-you arms,
These familiar branches wrapped round my waist
Ground me to the roots I crave
Even In my dream I know this is temporary and I analyze the importance of this moment
I compare you to my past and future.
There is a checklist, a mental document of pros and cons.
In my dream we have stolen a day,
or is it a weekend?
We are chaste; only friends.
In the last moments of my dream I am searching cabins on a ship for you.
Ripping open doors, one after
Everyone I find is eating ice cream, including you.
I pull the door open and rush inside
to kiss your chocolate covered mouth and I hold on tight
to keep from waking.