I dreamed last night of you in a crowd
walking with a rose, the pink one I bought you, pulling
away its petals letting them fall to the ground.
You were looking for me, you were with someone else.
I was gone.
I had another dream of an eerie street of brownstones
dark except for the sole decayed light bleeding orange
leading to a basement structured in steel painted in dripping black
a Man inside, sitting at an empty wooden table
in there alone, brooding with a crimson face
and His eyes shot through me as if to say
she is gone and there is nothing.
A car on the street pulled up to the curb, a brown rusted Cadillac
and the window rolled down smoke pluming out and I couldn't see in.
Eurydice, the wind whispered, and the car took off.
Through a fence with barbed wire I watched lightning strike
the ocean, a flash of a wave being surfed by a man under gunpoint.
In a wet jungle, lightning shone on the path as I searched for you
stealthily maneuvering around guerillas, winding trunks and
slapping leaves to sinking mud and walls of trenches.
Crawling through this never
ending maze I cried out to the wind, rain
pouring into my mouth.
The wind didn't answer.
The rain stopped
and not another bolt of light.
Then, I woke up.