Since your words proved able
to make me dream,
to make me dream of caring
and of caring for,
and of a desperate effort
to drink from a fountain
where the water flowed flat
along its spiky sphere,
hard to get ones mouth on,
of people trying to connect
while stories
kept putting doors between them

I dreamed all these dreams
and you were in them –
less in their depths
than in the coming out,
as I woke up, and again,
as I returned to sleep

Since your words could do this,
I deem them
an honest story,
I consider them
a worthy read.

©Wendy Mulhern
April 1, 2020