last night in my dreaming, we were in a livingroom. there were rooms upstairs. i think you lived there, and maybe me. you remembered suddenly that you had something for me. you were a little sheepish about the fact that you'd had it for a long time -- one summer between semesters of college (which for me is twenty years ago) my then-best-friend had given you a letter for me.
you still had it, and you gave it to me last night. i held it in my hands. i saw india's handwriting on the outside and i could see her handwriting through the envelope. letters have always been precious between us; we met as young poets. new words from her, a physical manifestation of her/our love, five years after her death. i was sobbing and shaking, overcome with joy.
i woke before opening the envelope, but with no disappointment. my waking face was also wet with tears of joy. i don't understand what the universe is but i feel so surely that she tried to reach me, that she did reach me, and i am so happy for that.
i don't know why you were the messenger for this in my dream; while i hold you in the highest regard and think fondly of you, we certainly don't know one another well. but you did me a tremendous good last night on the dream plane
so here are my thanks
and my love.