I dreamed we never met
frozen at the edge of autumn
like shadows cast
against a paper screen
and in pantomime
we divested ourselves
of these overplayed passions.
I woke without you again
and if not for summer
I'm not sure I could discern
one from the other.

I want to put a heart shape
where you were
press into this clay
something more permanent
than this longing
because it is a shallow pool
where the years stack up
and drown
and die
and I just want to feel whole
with this hole
at last.