I like to think.
That the man in my dream last night.
Even if I was upset with him.
Screamed and shouted.
And got nowhere.
So took him up to our children's treehouse.
Sat with my legs crossed.
And instead calmly told him how I felt.
Pointed and said, I hurt here and here and here.
Then, to show him how much I still loved despite it all.
Lifted his oversized top I was wearing.
Up and over his head and around his shoulders.
So we could share that tight space.
Pressed together within the comfort.
Of an old t-shirt.