Memory of a Paradoxical Dream

- after "Memory of a Paradoxical Dream," Armando Valero

Everything forks, and everything converges.

I covered your eyes, and I stared straight
ahead at the world. Your ears
opened like vases
to the sound of wind.

In my belled sleeves, I kept hidden from myself
as much as from you the terrible faces
the future could wear.

Look intently at your reflection in the mirror
and you will see how one eye
bends like a leaf

at the corner; or how
half of your face softens at the hairline

and toughens to a slight point
on the other side.

On these back roads goldened by
the dust of years, cars are always
coming and going. Have they
ever arrived?

Every tree on every hill opens
like a parasol. We could lie
in the shade of any of them,
making garlands of leaf

and flower. We could pretend
nothing is ending or everything
is beginning or we are happy
just to be here.

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