Last Night

Last night I dreamt
that you loved another,
laughingly,
and wished that you had never come home
so that I wouldn't have had
to witness it.

Last night
my heart stretched across
        empty spaces
across oceans and continents
(and the tiny gaps between letters and words)
as new snow fell and hands searched
        in the cold
never finding quite
        what they were looking for.

Last night
alone, or just without you,
        I wandered
until eyes became sore
and legs grew stiff with trying,
and still awoke in sunlight
wanting only
        to see you.

Quiet

Quiet now,
before time pulls ends together,
brings minds past words
and bodies into arms into bodies.

Quiet,
to leave small spaces open,
in case someday
you might like
to fill them.