Audacious Dreams

First, the boiling darkness -

An orchestra is tuning up,
each player doubled by their lover
in perfect harmony.

They begin to play a haunting tune.
“Where Are We Tonight as the Dream Begins?”

Where are your eyes tonight?
In the gardens of Charlottenburg,
with every step, we sink deeper into the past.
By the time we reach the Palace,
the Palace has not yet been built.

Where are your hands tonight?
Burning all the maps,
returning the familiar world of places
to terra incognita,
abandoning words and numbers
for the wilderness of wise ignorance.

Where are your lips tonight?
Two wing-walkers, catapulted skyward,
yelling ‘I love you’s from tip to tip,
gazing at each other
across the curling tops
of grandmother clouds.

Where is your heart tonight?
It is a kitten at the bottom
of a sack already flung,
waiting to hit the waters
of a fast-flowing river.

Tonight I shall set alarms.
Tonight I’ll pinch myself and awake
in the wild barley of your hair.
I’ll hold your hands.
I’ll kiss those lips.
I’ll steal that heart.

Tonight this is no dream,
no song of summer
sung to a winter night.

Tonight, we wake at last,
release every window catch
and let each other in.

We dance and we dream together,
turn tight circles forever,
doubling each other
in the shrewd air of a new day,
blossom fat and wild and audacious
in the spring-woken infancy of love.