Dreams lie here, where memories arch their spines.
And where the sun like your uvula climbs the sky
as dawn yawns, Earth wakes and tastes its breath:
daylight wears dreams as badges on its breast.
And when you close your mouth, still dreams lie.
They reflect and shimmer atop glassy night,
when the moon and I watch with open mouths
how clouds shiver as moments dip south.
Dreams lie from dawn to near-midnight wishes,
strewn from hammocks to satellite dishes.
Yet each must claim its right to one place:
a cause to call home, or cupped in a face?
Gone in sleep or long awake, here’s the truth:
of all shelters dreams choose, mine lie with you.