I Always Know It’s You
I dreamed about you again last night
Sometimes I think
I do it on purpose, because
I don’t want to think about you anymore,
I don’t want to dream about you,
I don’t want to wake up in the morning with
your face behind my eyes and your name on my lips.
I saw you in a bookstore,
which isn’t unlikely.
Maybe these dreams are omens and
one day I’ll run into you in a bookstore.
I’ll see you from across the room and my heart will pound
and I’ll probably start to sweat and panic
and I’ll wonder what to do -
whether I should run to you or run away.
I’d probably run away.
But in my dreams, when I see you,
you are always safe and familiar.
In a crowd of strangers
I can always recognize the shape of your shoulders,
the straight line of your haircut
on the back of your neck,
the way your body radiates as if for me
to find you.
I always know it’s you…
when I saw you in the bookstore dreamworld,
I reached out my hand and slid it down
between the shoulder blades of your broad back,
rested it on your hip, and nudged you closer to me.
Are you ready to go?
I asked in my dream voice,
stealing a look over my shoulder, suspicious
that this wasn’t real,
that this was too good to be true,
that if I didn’t watch out behind me,
someone would steal you away.
It’s been ten years now
and I still look for you everywhere I go,
but I never find you
except inside of me.