Misremembered Sonnet

Night that night was nothing but
A loose collection of dreams
With no deep sleep between them—

Dreaming, waking, and dreaming.
This is misremembering.
All life’s misremembering,

Like the waking between dreams.
You learned by comparing notes,
By having words to compare.

All the bitterness from that
Comparison and dismay,
Disputes over memory—

What other disputes are there?
Memory can’t be repaired.