sunlight makes me dream
makes me hazy and illuminates
the desperation i have for you—
white around the edges but
dust, dust, dust is all around.
in through the window
like water boiling over,
bubbling up in the glass to
find the motes and
pick them out and
push them around; desperate dust,
seeking a landing place
(regret for being airborne).
it floats and seeks, pushed
by any passing wind,
each particle so pushably focused
on the inward:
your name, your name, your name.
i thirst, the way that dust
sticks only to wet, bonded
to the oasis of dreaming
about your wetted lips being mine,
your name becoming mine,
identity and existence at once
in motion, and still.
how strange!