lucid aspen
I was in a bed,
an amorous cloud;
The room wasn’t from memory
yet I felt I’d always be there.
Behind an unpainted door—
a wooden house;
Beyond the log walls—
a forest;
The door inched open,
a woman drifted through,
our auras silently entangled.
Draped in an unadorned nightgown
she collapsed into bed beside me,
her face hitting the pillow,
muffled, she said…
“I’m exhausted.”
I wrapped my arm around her,
stress became a shared warmth.
She raised her head,
her eyes, paraluminous;
When I looked away,
dots danced in my vision.
Then
she was asleep.
My arm pinned beneath her head
trapped by my unwillingness
to disturb her.
Soon—
I woke up.