O’ Sweet, O’ Heavy

She,
kneeling in my dreams,
weeding a dark garden
with her hands.
Her body,
like a fog,
that rises from ripe land.
O’ sweet —
O’ heavy —
O’ never will be.
She gives me calla lillies
so purple
I fall asleep in their sea.
O’ sweet —
O’ heavy —
my dream within a dream.
(I keep waking in your garden,
buried in my sheets…)

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