the light through the bedroom door, ajar
slanting past the bars of my,
blank-eye dreams, she said
she said, you said, I
blank-eye dreams in the photo, we
side-by-side no bone touching
no bones touching, maybe
not just light,
maybe air, air,
maybe milky white filtering-
Look! The flowers gape red and black.
Look! The umbrellas ooze, invert,
rain their mushroom caps across the waves.
And how do I know you are whole?
And how do I know?
A membrane slants across
light, and air, and blood,
past the blank-eye bars,
of my dreams.