I dreamt her. We talked. She said she had to go but I asked her to stay. She walked to her mother who was outside a shop and she winked at me. She rejoined me, smiling, with a pram and inside, wrapped, was our baby. Maybe hand sized, sleeping, long limbed like a doll. I never knew. And I held him and dropped him and he writhed as an injured cat whirls. I whirled. But all was OK. She gathered him up. And I spoke to her about him. The other him. I said I wanted to hit him and she laughed. She asked me if I wanted to go to a wedding of mutual friends with her and him and him. She wasn’t warm. She was as she was when she left. And I woke And I want her And I don’t.