Untitled

We visit each other
in the low-hanging wall of
clouds the thickened and
middle space between an altitude a
thin and cold and sunny sky
and the abrupt reveal of misty woodlands
when we descend, and drop down
through the bottom of
this opaque
call it dream

one in which you are
sick with fever and confused
I can't find it in the woods
and because somewhere you're
awake and I'm alseep you
can't respond to me when I
talk to you, can't hear or feel me when
I hold your hands and say
I found it, it was there
I do what anyone does
in these situations
I run for cold water
and find
its a clear and fresh pool but
guarded by a wolf swimming
lazy figure eights
underwater

another in which we are
both somewhere alseep and so I can
see you and you can
see me except we are on
horses on a plain in
Montana and they are crossing
their feet sideways so fast in a
floating dance and its like we're being
swept to sea and so we are
mute watching
each other go
and be gone

and the last one where I am
asleep and you are awake and I
call each number and
get your message and find
your note and leave you
messages in
every way I can and am
in your room and see
signs of you the evidence but
I can't find you
until just as I am waking you are
gone to sleep and I
meet you in that fleeting middle space too
enough to
reach and touch and
know there is only one second to say
all that matters which is
how I love you

and I'm awake to light in my bedroom and
the fan humming low and

by any determination then

bound to recall
or bound to forget

these interludes

that bound me to you.