Last night I rose, aflight, afloat, light as a ghost above my body dreaming. I glided toward the open door, and off I soared, the world beneath me gleaming. Which light are you, white, yellow, blue? Cars passing through, some escaping, some returning, daughters and sons. Pretend each one’s someone you’d run to save from a house that’s burning.
I was unkind, clueless and blind. Please let me try to give you all that I denied you. We’ll watch the day blaze into ash, fade into black. I swear I’ll start; I’ll bare my heart, dive through the stars, and I will wake beside you. Then in the dark, a spark will spread around our bed.