in my dream you were church regulated,

and I could only talk to you from another room,

the wallpaper was generally heterosexual,

and the lampshades entailed certain rights.

I couldn’t follow you then when you were

outside just beyond the door, with your back

to the house where the couple establishes

their own household; and then when you were

at the top of the pine, the one that stands a grand

figure out at the edge, you were waving down

not at me, but at the young or infant daughter

of another man, and I walked away from you,

and went inside, and shut the door, and said a prayer

and men formed alliances in the exchange.