By lisa
Date: 31 August 1998

Uncle Bonsai Was Nuts

4 a.m.
Maybe half past,
and the tape we fell asleep watching
is a reverse negative in my brain.
Not there, really---half in and out of sleep
until I sense you.
More playful then insistent
you draw me from dreams.

it's velvet black,
and honey satin, 
your hand brushing the wild hair
from my eyes---as if I could see you at all.
but sight is not what I need,
rather a dose of oxygen would be useful.

I'm almost awake, 
but stubborn strands of dreams
weave, and tangle
until I don't know which state
I'm in---
it would be easier to comb angel air pasta
then kick free of either world.

After my eyes adjust
just long enough to take in your 
silly proud grin,
before I fall back to sleep
in a messy disarray.

Good morning, lover.