Sleep

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

In Between...

To The Lady on the Train,

In deep sleep my dreams run wild and I cannot shape my thoughts and in my waking hours I am pressed by gravity and cannot lift to hold you in my mind for long. No matter how hard I try to hold your image, you fade from me like water in cupped hands.

But there is a very small place between sleep and awake, between dreams and truth, where I can be completely happy. It is only here where I shed my awkwardness; where I can build worlds as they might be; where I am no longer bound to who I am. It is in this thin in-between where I can see your face and I can hear your voice. It is here where I can feel your gaze on me like standing in bight warm sunlight. It is here where your dark eyes shine and a wry smile holds a secret.

It is here where I see you. Here, you are known and loved.

 

The Man in the Station