I dream of so many things,
like black velvet nights
deep and stretching from
here until the end of hours.
I feel them
as close as the heavy
wool of my hair.
I dreamt sadly just now,
between sleeping and pretending to
I built a solid boy with
hard arms, slow smiles and
night vision eyes as
warm as butterscotch.
The sadness is the haunting
that ensued when I awoke
in this house,
the sadness is fear of closing my eyes
because they’ll have to be opened again.
E.D. Campbell
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/waking-up-2/
