• What we want
    is never simple.
    We move among the things
    we thought we wanted:
    a face, a room, an open book
    and these things bear our names -
    now they want us.
    But what we want appears
    in dreams, wearing disguises.
    We fall past,
    holding out our arms
    and in the morning
    our arms ache.
    We don't remember the dream,
    but the dream remembers us.
    It is there all day
    as an animal is there
    under the table,
    as the stars are there.