Another Dream
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–
We were travelling across the top
of a reflective glacier.
We were going to a cathedral.
Your voice resonated like a violin
and cupped my ears like warm palms,
which, ironically, makes it hard to hear.
We were going to be late and
ghosts can get frostbitten and
Chicago was frozen beneath us.
I tried to elevate
my voice, the thrust
of which broke the mirror underneath
and we fell with renewed distance.