a journal of poetry
She has a dream and she has the same dream.
She says moon and she says moon and both put their she-phones
to their chests.
She says in my dream I slept between your mattress and box spring
and she nods and she hears her nod.
She says I was in the blue dress before you put it on
and after you put it on, like a soft paper flower she says
and she says yes, like a soft paper flower.
She nestles the phone in her crotch and she nestles the phone
in her crotch and the pubic hairs say it was warm in the dream.
She puts her face against the cool window and they play
where's my face and she guesses against the cool window.
She says I hung up the phone an hour ago and she says
I hung up the phone last year and still we go on talking
she says and she says we go on talking even while I am dead
and even while I am coming back to life.
She is two places at once and she is two places at once
which is four places at once.
She has to go back to sleep now and she has to go back to sleep now.
She says are you asleep now and she says yes and are you asleep now
and she says yes and they go on talking about being asleep now.
She has a dream and she has the same dream and in the dream
she is dreaming what she dreams and she is dreaming what she dreams.
Then it rains.