I was asleep. And oh,
what a grand slumber it was.
He whispered with that slight smile,
"Dream of us, twenty years from now."
And I smiled into that dream,
and he kissed that smile,
and that dream kissed my sleep.
A sound startled the house,
and he cautioned me. I awoke.
The blankets tucked gently around me,
his face hovered over mine.
"Should I say it now?" he asked,
with that whisper that spoke of a smile
I could not see with tired eyes.
He had once before mentioned
saying that word. He had said, "I won't
say it, but I do. I really do."
I could not answer, though I attempted.
I stared up into his eyes, (like the sea
after a storm) and I, squinting, was silent.
I nearly replied, "Only if you want to."
Repeatedly the phrase came to mind
but stopped at my lips and I
felt my breath catch.
It was like a dream. A tired dream.
He kissed me and said softly,
"Go back to sleep." A waking dream
in which all my twilight dreams