A Man on the Bus Mistakes Me for His Wife

He dreams he’s on a long flight.
In his dream of flight he dreams of falling from the sky.
I don’t correct him.

He wakes with a start from the dream inside the dream.
He takes her hand, inside the dream. Inside the bus stuffed with morning,
he dreams he’s on a long flight.

He is young; smells of soap and oatmeal.
Mop of hair, mouth slightly open. Sighs, settles into her (into me.)

I don’t correct him.
Snelling Ave., and I think, I would have made a great polygamist!
Polyanna, Polyandrous. Mile-high climber.
He dreams he’s on a long flight.
I can’t blame him. Was made pillow of patchouli.
Kitten fur and cave-water. Den mother.
I don’t correct him,

was born this way: XX. Cenote. Tiptoe.
No horseplay, boys – you might fall in!
He dreams he’s on a long flight.
I don’t correct him.

Front page image by GilbertoFilho .

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