I had a dream in which I found
Your eyes on desert salty ground.
I picked them up. They blinked at me,
And whispered words I could not see.
Three roses wheeled above us there,
On wings as harsh and wide as air,
And shrieked, as if to let us know,
We two were free to stay or go,
But they, unbleeding, had no choice,
Just wings and hunger, hate and voice.
The fate you’d met, your eyes had seen.
I did not ask. Those flowers keen
For those who cannot look above,
For sight of long-forgotten love.