Love Poem

All night I dreamed variations
of ways to fail people. I was cooking
a delicious meal but couldn't find
any butter. I was supposed to read
to a group of children but misplaced
my eyes. A woman followed me
from room to room, cataloguing
each mistake. I couldn't remember
her name, but somehow I knew she
was the only one who would ever
remember mine. At the art show,
I didn't have correct change, just
a pocket full of buffalo nickels. On
the bus, I'd misplaced my knees
and couldn't take my seat, even though
it made everyone late. I awoke
more rested than I'd felt in days. In
the shower, I remembered her name
in an explosion of soap dropping.
I'm keeping it safe for the day
I find her, again. "See," I will say.
"I remembered. Now tell me
everything I'm doing wrong."