In a dream you started to tell me about
without the slightest hesitation;
I was someplace nondescript,
drinking stout beer and laughing—
and lit by warm mirth, despite
the dank surroundings—when you
walked in and found me. From there,
I imagine I nodded and waved from the corner,
still laughing with those others—and maybe,
you just motioned back from the door
and smiled, and left. Because it was
far better, in that moment
for each of us—to reinvent the other
as contented, and simply to leave it at that
than to spill our mouths open
and dispel—
any doubt.
