today i have dreamt restlessly
of your hands and eyes
of my own feet
of the creeping vowels of 'love'
and the terrible questions
i ask and ask and ask
and the elusive answers,
like schools of silver anchovy
beseiged in their storm clouds.
-the bellwether feels the sharks coming on-
my indifference and persistence
and stubborn resistance to the lunging truths.
you make me work so hard for you
you never made me doubt

i am the house on a cloud
i am the busy shape
i am a singularity of desires

today i have dreamt of love,
in keeping with tradition.
the chaos of overcast
a confusion of rows and rows of flowering trees,
and closed roads,
the long golden staircase turning in right angles
to the center of the earth,
are the outside of the asylum.
and inside
i sleep with the fishes,
the shining rim of the worlds above and below
divided by my wishes.