this morning I awake from a dream of you
still dripping from the shower
naked and looking down at me with a tenderness
and the shared secret of that mutual excitement
reflected between us like a prism
and the hope of you
hands on my arms
and the memory that you
did so
I am beginning to understand I think
the way nothing makes sense
the way we can never see what piece it is
we are holding in our hands
we were not children this was a dream
and I lived it and passed out from it
life is a series of awakening from dreams
and I feel that acutely
I am tender
I am tender to that tenderness
