We Need Us

Dear Tiara by Sean Thomas Dougherty

I dreamed I was a mannequin in the pawnshop window of your conjectures.

I dreamed I was a chant in the mouth of a monk, saffron-robed syllables in the religion of You.

I dreamed I was a lament to hear the deep sorrow places of your lungs.

I dreamed I was your bad instincts.

I dreamed I was a hummingbird sipping from the tulip of your ear.

I dreamed I was your ex-boyfriend stored in the basement with your old baggage.

I dreamed I was a jukebox where every song sang your name.

I dreamed I was in an elevator, rising in the air shaft of your misgivings.

I dreamed I was a library fine, I’ve checked you out too long so many times.

I dreamed you were a lake and I was a little fish leaping through the thin reeds of your throaty humming.

I must’ve dreamed I was a nail, because I woke beside you still hammered.

I dreamed I was a tooth to fill the absences of your old age.

I dreamed I was a Christmas cactus, blooming in the desert of my stupidity.

I dreamed I was a saint’s hair-shirt, sewn with the thread of your saliva.

I dreamed I was an All Night Movie Theater, showing the flickering black reel of my nights before I met you.

I must’ve dreamed I was gravity, I’ve fallen for you so damn hard.