Mark, I have not seen my own body
Doing any of the things of a dream.
My body was a sleeping third party
A figment in somebody else’s story.
As morning came I would recall plot
But forget plot-line my vagueness.
I get into knots confusing realities
With thin bits of dreams and men.
My dreams cross into life and sleep
Alternating between life and death.
Death is the longest dream I sleep.
Now we compare notes, you and I.
(referring to the poem Dreams by Mark Strand)