He Said She Said

I swallowed the sweet thing in a dream. I woke up heavy.
I said, what’s the matter with you.
I said, stop seeing what’s the matter with me.
I ran to/from only moving one frantic eye.
Something snitched. Then back to the argument.
It is more acceptable to steal from the ether.
When you said, we take matters into our own hands.
I didn’t start the day with a ritual. Again. Twenty days and counting!
I said, I was supposed to address my wrongs to you.
The sweetgrass still in its plastic. Keep it there for its poetry?
Then the driftwood resting on my father’s ashes.
Well, you said, ecstasy from a fluted throat.
Ha. As if there were presence enough in me to notice, before this.
I said, I’m less angry now that you don’t exist.
Then the aha moment announced.
Whistling nothing like wind through fistulae. That happens here.
Left to my own devices, I said.
As if language were a refuge. As though the sound of walls.