I had a dream about a dream
and you were there,
beautiful as any dream.
You were with me in my dream
and in the dream about the dream.
I whispered it to you
and you were listening
like a young god would a prayer,
reading lips and speaking in my tongue,
interpreting my obscurest symbols,
tracing each indented word
with a gifted finger,
mastering the Braille
of my intentions.
I sensed that we’d been there before
together on that sacred acre,
dreaming in each other’s arms.
Was it just me?
Have you walked along that beach as well,
trying to remember,
searching for a piece of rock or shell
to pocket like a charm,
like change that you could earn?
Have you been hoping all this time
that I would dream this dream,
that I would wander close enough to kiss?
And have you wondered
if I’m out here praying
that you’re somewhere
drifting off in faithful sleep,
believing that my dreams
will all come true?