This was my last dream of you and me.
A bed in a field of flowers
out of her sight, and away from him.

Just you.

Just me.

Just a bed in a field of flowers.

Just now I woke from a nap, and as usual
dreamed of you, walking past me in silence
taking my hand in stealth as she looks elsewhere.

You brushed past my shoulder, too close
in a crowded botanical, pulled me aside
for a kiss behind the geraniums.

Just you.

Just me.

Just a wall of beauty.