In The Adjacent Room Poem by Daniel Brick

While I sleep there is a woman
who sits in the adjacent room.
I am not dreaming her. She is real,
perhaps more real than I am. Who am I
after all? A denizen of surfaces,
a temporary inhabitant of apartments,
one who walks along walls for security.
It would not be wise for me to claim more
substance than she must embody. Why not?
Because she sits in nightly vigil
absorbing the Night's power. She is one
who is free of fear, she is one who sings
the songs of victory with perfect pitch,
she is one who seek everyone's salvation.
I know this because in my deep dreams
an old wise man cautions me to honor
all spirit-guests in the adjacent room.