I met a young woman in a dream
Someone I’d known many years ago;
We were in a library,
Walls covered with fantastic books,
Artwork strange yet sublime,
And because this was my dream:
T-shirts with Opus the Penguin.
She had a book in front of her,
A scholarly work she had written.
As we talked I leafed through it:
Ancient cultures, snake gods and jaguars,
Stairs to nowhere
And the people who climb them.
I read a passage aloud:
Dense and scholarly but also
Infused with wit and charm.
I closed the book and looked at her
No different now then she’d ever been.
“What do you want?” she asked
“All I ever wanted was you,” I said
She laughed and shook her head
“You don’t even know me, not really;
You’re in love with the idea of me
And you always have been.”
She wrote a note to me on the flyleaf
In a language I couldn’t read
But it wasn’t important;
I understood the sentiment
And at that moment that was
All that mattered.