Saturday, July 21, 2007

A drugged sleep last night,
dreams within dreams, dead
husband not dead at all,
returning to hold me accountable
for impending marriage.
All resolved with yards and yards
of silk satin, an offering
to forgiveness, to be stitched
up into a new life,
bead-embellished, sequinned.

1 comment:

  1. Inevitable process. Your dream-poet chewing on things.
    hurry home. we miss you!