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Whose voice was that, here, where I lie alone? 
Look at you, said Eros. Scared, shy, alone.  

I dreamt my dreaming of you 
Brought us together. 

I love you as only dust can love you.

Keen eyes read the top row, staring straight ahead until the words unfocus.
G, then something, then D . . . If only that middle letter were in focus!

On this eye chart, every focal point is a vanishing point.
Desire dilates pupils. We can’t keep the world in focus.

When color comes back to the world,
leaving gets near. By the roadside, auburn
and cream cows chew spangled green.
Creeks steam. A lone bull’s horns gore

Finally, I consider whether
I have been a terrible mother.
A squirrel limps by, too wilted
for chatter. I might just be.

I would wake early, Saturdays,