I dream her full arms and the thin black dress

I dream her full arms and the thin black dress
falls on a delicate shoulder. I dream her eyes
are blue stars, timeless and silent ornaments
on the curve of heaven. I forget the map

with which to orient myself, the Sundial
and the mystic's calendar, the turning days,
the change of hours in the orange light.
The words of her clothing, the nouns and verbs,

articles falling over her breasts. I'm breathing
the air we share, the humid air that's moving
in the room. The maroon curtains obscure

the light, beloved is hidden behind symbols
and foreign mythologies. I dream her simple
form on the changing surfaces of time.