Having you in the night, how
Would I recognize a dream
With each face seeming no
More familiar than the last?
You would simply be, and I
Being used to your being I
Wouldn’t remark any strangeness.
Then waking I’d remain for
A time in that world in which
You still lived, looking down
The hall toward your room
I’d recall my passing
By earlier, dreaming
I’d hang on to you.
There were no revelations,
No words to take with
Me into the day. You
Were just as you always
Were, moving about,
Walking beside me a though
Tied and not torn asunder.
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