I dreamed a dream of you last night.
I woke, drenched, but with unopened eyes;
I hadn't seen your face in a while.

I dreamed a dream that I had died
and you lay with me, watched my breath go by.
As my eyelids fluttered and my lips turned to stone
you smiled; I know you had waited long.

I was old but you, you were young,
and as beautiful as I saw you last.
Your hand, soft held mine firm until I passed,
and I belonged to you.

I dreamed a dream and for this I wept
to think but in dreams I would see you again.
Come, dear one, I am here for you,
my hand outstretched, waiting.

Caressing touches
with carefree friction
hang heavy with promise.
I am going to hell.

Between our bodies lies a running joke
treading back and forth
until the punch line gets old.
Meanwhile our laughs disturb heavens
and I cry to gods.
Ironic.

I stand naked before the mirror
discerning which parts of me you changed.
My body pronounced me woman.
My face reminded me too much of a babe.