My Turn
I stuffed my issues under my pillow
For review in a black and white
Dream show, while in blazing sunlight
I toiled at yours.
Distractions of Bach partitas kept
My demons at bay;
Their shouts muted in organ aural waves.
Yet for yours there was focus
And clarity;
Solutions (mine for you
Not yours for you) dancing
With octave changes
And plucked strings.
And there was that mirror
Reflecting an image unknown
To me. 
That man who one day
I would meet.
Who would catch my eye
And hold me with his love
And answers, assure me
In silence that it was
My turn.

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