A Shelter

A flash of lightning impossibly illuminates the windowless room,
the sound of thunder lost in the deafening torrent
or eaten by the earth before it reaches my ears,
and you are here.
Is your hair the color of ebony, or is it silver now?
My wonder delays my wish.
The light fades, I lurch toward you,
your arms turn to smoke beneath my hands,
the serpent’s wreath of your hair mocks me as you flee my embrace.
I crash into walls, I scream your name, I explode through the doorway,
the rain soaks me to my skin, I shiver. You are gone.

I wake drenched in sweat
she is sitting over me
she says
“You were having a nightmare”
gets me a glass of water
dabs my forehead with a cool washcloth
acts like a good woman
looks down at my deep measured breaths
cautiously asks what the dream was about.
I tell her I do not remember.