Second Person

I screened a dream vignette the other night,
a nondescript adventure, and a face
I never saw before. Without delight
or deep intrigue we shared a brief embrace
before I woke, in some familiar place.
I rose a little hungry for more view,
receptive and adjusted to the pace,
aware we called each other “you” and “you.”

This entry was posted in Love, Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a comment