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sleepingincars

May 2009

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sleepingincars

grace me with your cold shoulder


II

I wake up in your bed, I know I have been dreaming
Much earlier, the alarm clock broke us from each other,
you've been at your desk for hours, I know what I dreamed;
our friend the poet comes into my room
where I have been writing for days,
drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,
and I want to show her one poem
which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,
and wake. You've kissed my hair
to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone....
and I laugh and fall dreaming again
of the desire to show you to everyone I love,
to move openly together
in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,
which carries the featherbed grass a long way down the upbreathing
air.

-Adrienne Rich

If this is not love, I don't think I can handle the real thing.
 

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