What we want br is never simple. br We move among the things br we thought we wanted: br a face, a room, an open book br and these things bear our names-- br now they want us. br But what we want appears br in dreams, wearing disguises. br We fall past, br holding out our arms br and in the morning br our arms ache. br We don't remember the dream, br but the dream remembers us. br It is there all day br as an animal is there br under the table, br as the stars are there br even in full sun.