Roy Orbison and John Milton Are Still Dreaming
You know what I mean: In the instant of waking in bliss, the whole body smiles— He's still alive—She came back—They didn't mean it— We forgive and are forgiven—It all turned out— And then the hand claws the duvet, seized by the real, as all that's warm just drops. I know you know. But I seek a potion to make me dream of the actual with the same fervor, so I'll wake to happy facts: It's spring! It's raining! Robins! Someone will return a phone call today! My son has watched the clock and let me nap for 35 minutes!— and does not notice my face smacked wet by the snap of the delusion, unmatched in sweetness, that you promised to hold me always.
From Romanticism by April Bernard. Copyright © 2009 by April Bernard. Used by permission of W. W. Norton & Company. All rights reserved.