For you, when we meet

i am sure i know
you
i am sure i have seen
you
on the corner frame of my dreams
with whimsical light
that shuffles between the
finger touch
of finger tips

and as you fall hair back on a pillow and
sigh with dove feathers cooing
a sink and a sigh
and your back is rested upon the sheet
and
you
look to
me
and
you reach out with your fingers to stroke my cheek
and i fall into your hand to rest my head
for a while

and then
are you gone?
are you gone then?
or do you stay, to return
to the shuffle shuffle shuffle of a
dream's frames
where control is not a remote
but a far away finger of another
that i do not even believe in.