Albert K. Ashes-Bury Lying

Closed the blind, my eyes,
my mind—and I am not going to write

what I was thinking, as it was sweet,
the moment, between dreams (pretend

there are only dreams, out here—the heat
and the quiet

being real) and…

…and it has just shivered through
now still: the evening before

this evening—and I am writing
what I know love is (I feel it): sweet moments—

clear;
thoughtless—

as if dreams.

---