in her black and white dreams
color arrives like an unwanted guest,
the comforting grays of her subterranean life
are opened to the bleat of the visible spectrum,
all her soft muted love affairs
become somehow tawdry and venal,
but in dreams she can feel moonlight
on her skin and lovemaking
under the sheet of darkness
becomes tender and tactile and luscious

in the shaded house of her sleep
red and greens and yellows are dismissed
so she can clearly see   
the choices of her heart