in my dream you were church regulated,
and I could only talk to you from another room,
the wallpaper was generally heterosexual,
and the lampshades entailed certain rights.
I couldn’t follow you then when you were
outside just beyond the door, with your back
to the house where the couple establishes
their own household; and then when you were
at the top of the pine, the one that stands a grand
figure out at the edge, you were waving down
not at me, but at the young or infant daughter
of another man, and I walked away from you,
and went inside, and shut the door, and said a prayer
and men formed alliances in the exchange.