I had a dream
in French
and black and
white

a dream where you
were in America
en fin
and I was high on
Crater Lake

I had a dream
where your skin
survived
it did survive
the coldest blow
the ash
the snow
in the Caldera's dance

where sheets
of violet
embers and
clothes
hanging on the line
blew in rhythm
to my French
two-step
and my ombre
shades of time

I had a dream that you
were here
and that you
never died.