On not losing you after all
There are dreams where you feel your lungs filling.
What was I doing? you say when the blue water hits your brain
What was I doing all my life?
Have the cars come loose on the ski lift over the sharp trees a mile over the
Goodbye you say to the good world in which you lived without thinking.
I in my sleep kept murmuring broken benedictions to the white walls whispering
I shall not want
like a lamb with one ebony hoof in the teeth of a gray wolf.
You open your eyes on the carpet, a heap of sheets over your head.