You say that you don’t remember your dreams,
But you’ve told me of dreams you’ve had of me.
Most of your dreams are night-terrors,
Waking you from your sleep
You crouch in a dark corner with no memory.
I hold you in my arms and feel your sweat,
Bring you water to soothe you.
But when you dream of me,
You lay calmly next to me and smile,
Then explain to me our conversations—our activities for a long while.
I dream of you almost every night,
Things that were, things that are and things that could be.
I feel your heart and listen to your voice—your words
I feel your love, your anger, your confusion, your lies.
And when I wake I remember everything
Your love, your hate, your kiss and the painful way we said good-bye.