You know that part of The Matrix
when Neo realizes he’s the One? Not quite a god, but something / close. That is how I feel / every time I wake up. I dream of working / at a grocery store. The type of dream that lasts / decades. In it, I am waiting / for someone to know who I am. To notice me on a street corner / & scream my name. As if it’s a good thing / when it’s true. There is a difference / between publicity & privacy, but I don’t know what it is / anymore. In dreams, I sleep alone.
I left to get my car washed
& you thought I had disappeared for good. Some sort of steaming / ghost. I could never be a ghost / because I don’t know 
anything about the moon. I know nothing about children. This is all / one big true story. I could warm my hands / by sitting on them. Leather seats. I could drive / to Alaska, but I still wouldn’t even / be gone for good. There are three mugs of coffee / in the cup holders. One for me, one for you, & one / for my ghost. That is what I call / a holy trinity. Especially because / two-thirds of it is me. When I came home, you smiled / & covered your eyes, as if I were a burning bush / blossoming with roses.
I love being able to see the stars
but sometimes it’s too foggy. Winter nights, I sit on the floor naked / with all of the windows open / & it feels like the air is eating my skin. The second best feeling / in the world. Sometimes you can see the moon during the day, & I’m not sure / why, but I like it. By June, the clouds are being divas again, & there’s usually a thick / blue rain, & nothing about any of that / helps me see the sky at night. I settle for neon signs / in diner windows. Open. Closed. Help needed. Always so much / help needed.
