every dream is the same dream
at first touch we are ourselves
on the other side of the train
ten paces from the foothills
stopped to smell the jasmine
bent over the tarnished fence
what impossible effort
to arrive here in our sleep
our lips green inside like
we’ve forgotten ourselves in
the glove compartment
the crossing guard has a
cigarette in her mouth
is missing her littlest finger
in the reflection she shepherds
us into the playground
when we separate our nails catch
on our sleeves and we pull at the
inseams in our promises
what abundance of caution
we share if the sky faintly
flashes we freeze if the
crossing guard extinguishes
her smoke we disintegrate
our remembrance is tidy and
well-proportioned like the
mahogany gate ziptied to
the stairwell like our cat
peeking through the
openings
can we remain unglued if
someone calls us on the
other line can we keep our
faith in who we cannot reach
the crossing guard waves
she knows she will find us
tomorrow at the same
juncture hand in hand
off her shoulders a ladybug
leaps and sprouts pistils
glistens into the pavement
whispering take care
be safe
words we want
but cannot speak
to ourselves
Header photograph © Elle Danbury.
Leave a Reply