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Dream Duo
by Barbara Reheir-Meyers

I want a two-finger-typist man
who understands why the sky is pink
or makes me think he does.
When I tell him I smell snow, he’ll say “I know.”

I want a two-fisted he-man
who’s not afraid to wear pink shirts;
who sees through light and shadow .
Who’ll be a beacon in the dark.

I want to do the two-step
one step at a time, with a man
who truly hears the music,
so we can do our duo upon the lovers’ stage.

I want to walk two- by- two
in that long line of unabashed romantics
and taste the nectar from my honey bee
without the sting that brings remorse.

I want we two to touch
with the kindness of mimosa blooms,
their perfume sweet and spring-fresh,
a fragrant iron bubble in which we two can nest.