Her bunched tulle lips

I addressed the wrinkled
face I made up, there above
pretend crinkles
in a pretend dress.
“Why can’t this dream keep me,
without taking me
from the waking sun?”
I said, and winking
into the yellow-red
as she turned
her window-wide head
to look at me,
she made me
the hushed reply
a soft breeze gave to her
bunched tulle lips, “It’s you,
who keep those two
apart.”