In the dreams she doesn’t know
the hugeness of what is about to strike her down.
Unsure myself of the timing of it
and whether or not I should tell her now
I don’t. Ever. I only hoard
the feeling of tenderness toward her to myself.
The tentative nature of our swapped roles––
I with the terrible knowledge, she not knowing
I solicitous, walking her
towards the edge, the brink of dream
where, Dig! I order myself.
Make a way for her to the other kingdom.