the woman next to me
at the vast table turns.
Young, robed in blue of night
and her hair: corkscrewed night
Her eyes: hour before dawn.
Hooked nose, smile bent upwards.
And then: a ringing slap
a hand darting from a sleeve
to leave a red imprint
on the cheek of my dream.
A laugh, warm as starfall
a kiss to my red cheek.
“Wisdom comes with a slap
and a kiss,” she whispers.
And then I find my feet
back in the dusky sand
coarse grains wearing my soles
pale foam crashing, darkness
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