Joe Pacheco

Wrapped in your share of comforter,

sleeping beside me, a touch away,

a world of sleep apart, who are you really?

Are you roaming secret worlds, worlds

in which I do not exist, am not your lover

or just one of many?

I cannot ever know, the shield of self

locks us out of each other: uncertainty

insists we never know each other fully –

In separate universes of dream

we pull further and further apart until

the burst of waking –

drowsy embrace folds us together again –

discovery ignites our morning of love.