I woke up at 6am,
In my T-shirt, and cold
I got up to use the bathroom,
And I remembered, why
I was sweating. I was
Sweating in my dream.
I was watching a gospel
Choir and singing along
With them in the seats.
Watching them, a choir
Coordinator heard me.
And told me, “What beauty,”
She wanted me in the choir.
Before sleeping that night,
I was on Facebook, and I
Wanted to look at my crush
On Facebook, and I didn’t –
So I didn’t. I felt good about that.
In the dream, she had me on stage
To join the performance. I was
Sweating, so wet, everything.
I started to sing, and there he was,
He was in a small, black, folding chair,
Near me, so closely, I thought he was
Not part of the stands, at all. I felt
Terrified, sweating from Stage Fright
And from him, listening.
I finished singing, and I held out
My hand to touch his, already
Reaching out to me. It was slow,
In my mind now, remembering it
And writing, like slow-motion, like
It was impossible. I’ve never touched –
His palm was sweaty, just as sweat,
Slippery as my own, he gripped my
Hand as firm,
She said, “I guess there was tension
In the performance,”
And he said, to her, while looking
“Listening to her had given me tension,
If you know what I mean.”