Issue Twenty-Three - Winter 2014

I Had Two Great Dreams for My Body

By J. A. Harris

Tonight listening to you falling asleep 900 miles away

I talk about the kitten’s cottony belly, his ruthless teeth,

not saying any of the other,

feeling the searing holes there below, here above

and I realize the oily undreamt dream I’ve been given;

I can soothe your weary heart with meaningless babble.

That is all I can give.

It is all I am given.

But I can feel your breath slowing, welling,

your eyes closing,

your arms then softening,

twitching as you drop away.

I remember as if I were there beside you not having to speak.

There in the quiet is the other dream;

the unspoken one that is all the barren holes.

You whisper “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

It is almost just enough to drift another one away;

to put that child to sleep forever.

Copyright 2014 Harris