Dreams

There are dreams, streams
Of consciousness of which I shall not speak,
For I am weak
And would not have you know
Where I go
In sleep,
Lest you weep
For my dark heart.

I shall not tell you of my nightmares
For you have cares
Of your own
And, when alone
I would not have thee see
What tortures me.

I shall not open my heart
For you have dark
Thoughts enough of your own.
So let us leave our demons alone
Until they creep
Out in sleep
And we, in earnest weep.

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