and when he dreams the dream she dreams
folded tight like an origami butterfly
so small she slips it into her pocket
to carry with her safe from interpretation
he falls like alice into the well of her eyes
then tumbles into her troubled longing
to transform the wrath of the world
which hides within us all into love
yet her dream he dreams is only his
dream as much as she allows him to dream
he sees only so far past the edge of the cloud
of his knowing lost in wisps of her words
and when he wakes her dream trails lazily
like pockets of fog between broken trees
(September 2012)

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.