Unborn

In the dream, I said

Knowing well that the age is past and the time not the right one

"when I have a baby—when I have my baby"

And looked at you in challenge

As though you might stop me or refuse

To join in the collusion

I stated whatever it was that in a dream I thought important

Vital for the care and feeding and raising up of this hypothetical infant

This child of deep sleep, of rapid eye movement

And looked at the ceiling above the maple table

the teapots and the spoons

as though counting the circling stars

But I watched your eyes flicker

flicking like the hands of a clock

ticking off the lie and the hope and the things I couldn't say

watched your watchful gaze for surprise and desire and dread

gazing without turning toward your face

Your clearing wistful eyes.