I tell you, but what am I sorry for?
I’m only for myself…wanting
you to come to bed with me only makes
me sad when you don’t. napping in your chair,
computer screen immobile, must offer
some lotus of leisure. I would prefer
your face leaning on my shoulder instead
of on your wrist, surely it is sleeping
like the rest of your body. Let us meet
in the field beyond right and wrong. This you
said to me five years ago and tonight
I read it in Rumi. please take my hand.
to walk there with you is my waking dream
my nightmare is—I fall where you can’t reach.