last night...
I thought we flew
through a storm
and had been swallowed
I watched both of us
spinning in
between dreams.
Athrill with unborn joy,
entranced with
unfelt-touch
I compared
your hazy face
with the picture
on my window...
Should we fly
to the periphery
of this world
and be racked with
self-reproach?
I'm grappling
with words
swindled with
sighs and ardor
I wanted more.
But a thought
is just a thought.
