OK.
"Deconstruction."
If it was you I loved, then I merely imagined a dream
with no borders.
I imagined the blackbirds, sleek and heavy in the rain.
The train in the distance, orange and smoking,
disguise the cricketing horizon.
I imagined the day.
I imagined the night too.
White ships passing for delivery trucks
breathing heavy in the peat.
Of our stillness, I imagined our dreaming.
Then waking in the middle of the night,
you whispering your dream of a man laughing,
and men laughing on the sidewalk outside.
When I touched your face, it was a shadow
for I even imagined the darkness we received at night.
Your nightly fear of disappearing as shadows
fear of disappearing too, and I assured you
we were not, for I imagined both.
The fear and the disappearance, warm light in the kitchen,
not a coat hook, not shoes, not keys, not wanting to leave.
And where you have gone, are there
hours where I disappear too?
Yes, I imagined us laughing.
I was not a man, but a blackbird cawing before departure.
The train getting darker, an antic twilight going farther
than the dark imagined sky, imagining heat,
imagining ardor.
Imagining so much wanting to be moved by love.