I had the cruelest dream last night that you were mine.
I wanted to love you like the whole world, and you
wanted to let me.
Still-clothed, the furthest from Genesis figures, but that's
how we knew each other. Biblically, stubbornly. With
longer lines
we could talk of the serpentine, but we'd end up doubling
back on ourselves. And this is not what the half-light should be.
Waking life
is two knees, pinned down hips, on carefully made beds.
Hair hanging, brushing curtains on my face and the lips say:
Hello. This is how
I've missed you.
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