In my sleep,
I can see the devil’s diaries,
row by row, and line by line,
and though the titles are unseen,
I know one of them is mine.
It is an account of most I’ve done -
of all those things I am ashamed:
all those places where I’ve gone,
that were never worth the wait.
But I hope to reach a final page,
I pre-write now for my demon muse:
“He has put off all our ways.
I know not what to do.”
If we all trade life for love,
then for today I’ll take a kiss,
a symbol for all we’ve done –
and all the world has missed…
After this there was the beach,
and letters broken down by waves.
And I wandered off as in a dream,
wishing I had found the day.
When we move into our new house,
I must tell you of my plan.
I want to run inside and lock the doors,
and have us stay a week like that.
For I’ve traveled so far without you.
The reverse would just be nice:
to just travel nowhere with you.
Because every journey has its price.
