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Night Gallery


by Gary Percesepe


Last night I had a dream

two dreams, really--

about two women.

 

I dreamed of Rachel

the long line of her

leaning into the bedroom

like a half-opened door

young, supple, pliant & she

folded herself somehow

into tiny geometric shapes

rather like an American flag

triangled and smoothed by

white gloved soldiers before

being handed to a grieving widow,

or as a traveler on a train disappears

at night into a couchette

sealed into the ceiling

silent as a sleeping bat.

 

I dreamed of Jennifer

lying tanned and naked on a silver

gurney in a room I didn't recognize.

"What do you want?" she asked

I had to admit I didn't know.

 

One tucked and folded and put away

the other not yet out of sight

a riddle I cannot solve.

 

They say some loves are more potent than others.

 

Others say love hurts

Love scars

Love wounds

And mars.

 

But

 

There were nights where my ecstasy was beyond knowing

when I would wake and see the roofs of the great cathedrals

shine in the winter air.

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