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In my dreams we speak.
Last week we argued
In a restaurant
With tablecloths and soft lighting
As steam curled from the
Plates set out in front of us.
You yelled.
Your face narrowed.
You left without eating
In real life
You've never yelled at me.
We've never argued
Or been in a restaurant together.
The subject of your discontent
Was not clear.
Last night you said "I love you"
Then kissed me sweetly
Amorously
On the cheek though
Not on the lips
Before stepping off a train
Rattling over a trestle
Connecting mountaintops
Vanishing into cumulus clouds
Gathering gray
Thoughtful enough however
To call a moment later
To say you had arrived home safely
Your aerial voice stilling my terror
Allaying my dread
Repairing me to the serpentine gardens
Of love lit sleep.
copyright 2017
Zev
Torres |
