speech.

I HAD A DREAM
no, not that sort of dream
it was just another night;
we were in bed and
you were at your side
(which is, as you say,

by mine)

I was gazing into your eyes
thinking of a story to tell
(around you it seems
I'm always searching for the
right words,
it's hell)

silence in my mind
turned on a switch
anger
but mostly, sincerity

(what came was a compliment
more sublime than I'd ever seen):

"you make me write bad poetry."