floating and leaving no trace
i dreamed once
that my parents
[both dead]
were alive again
and reconciled
and living in a
large house
even the
dream me knew
this fiction
poorly written
and all i wanted
was to
wake up
there was no
longing for home
just the need
to get away
from the lie
of it all
you chant
a whispered music
your language a delcious
black dream of sweaty shadows
and the smell of sleepy skin
——
in shorthand
i nod
you nod
shake my head
a shake of your own
this warm familiarity
each of us a lung
drawing the same breath
in one body
moving beyond recounting
or even paraphrasing
our dreams
Words and Feathers 