A Funny Dream

I’m writing to tell you that last night I had a funny dream,

That all things are not quite as they seem.

That you had come back

To rid me of this sense of lack,

This wanting that has made not a house, but a home of my heart.

It is a breathing thing, one that beds down with me at night and rises

In the morning. It is okay. Do not worry.

Just as in the afternoon, when loyal shadows stretch from outdoor objects,

Your absence is just a reminder of your once-presence.

Like a creeping mold, a terminal cancer, I see your smile everywhere now.