Croon

I am dreaming of a different girl.
She leans forward and pulls me in.
What is her name?
She has two.
She is not one.

I wake up in light through the tree, in love.
I am the Sun King, for a moment. Sing.
I am awake. Why?
There is no love here.
The sun is still here.

Beer walkabout and I see her, the dream.
I call her the other love again.
I am unsure of her.
Her dress lingers on red, or blue.
I don't think she should come home with me.

Night.
I am in the space of the black window. My room.
Arched back captured by the couch, head expanded.
I am the walls, I am the bed, I am the dead air.
In the center, The radio scratches its throat.
Women holler with hips and shoulders, "Be my baby!"
I am down in my heart.
Baby.
Lover.
Darling.
Do I want you because you are none of these?