Roots.

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
Encircling me.
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.
You win.

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
Another

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.

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3 thoughts on “Roots.

  1. Summer, this is beautiful. And original. The metaphors are fantastic and work well. I would love to see you push yourself in this way–this creative way of exploring your emotions through writing. Really, thank you so much for this poem ( its is a poem indeed, sister!)

    Like

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