I have a lucid dream

in which I am frantically
searching for you—through
the streets of Rome, to the
dusty footpaths of the music
festival, the first time I told God
that I loved you. You’re somewhere
amongst the crowd, and I push
my way through, knowing I don’t
have much more time until I stop
breathing, and on the other side
of the veil, you are there. You don’t
see me; I wake up and gasp for air.