You know what I mean: In the instant
of waking in bliss, the whole body smiles—
He's still alive—She came back—They didn't mean it—
We forgive and are forgiven—It all turned out—
And then the hand claws the duvet,
seized by the real, as all that's warm just drops.
I know you know. But I seek a potion
to make me dream of the actual with the same fervor,
so I'll wake to happy facts: It's spring! It's raining! Robins!
Someone will return a phone call today! My son
has watched the clock and let me nap for 35 minutes!—
and does not notice my face smacked wet
by the snap of the delusion, unmatched in sweetness,
that you promised to hold me always.