I dreamt about you again last night
in an ambling mass you’d see at
a Japanese temple, glimpsed your
face so still, phone limp in your hand.
You wanted to say, but something stopped
then we’re in a bright apartment,
stacks of light outside, you want a game
to help explain, I say we go to bed
so early these days, and turn away.
We watched your clockwork tomato crawl
for the benefit of something small
and maybe it’s my age but I could not
locate the old rage. I saw a ghost with
no words trying to speak and could not turn
other animals 