we are alone here. i’m alone pursuing a glimmer of hope which i saw as a child and and feel destined to fulfill. it is my only purpose. all else is fictional. all else is an act.:. i dreamt we were at The Globe. a faceless crowd witnessed as we witnessed only ourselves. i fell back asleep and into a dream where you spoke in metaphors and tongues and i understood you entirely because it was my fantasy too and our tongues were connected at birth. for a moment the costumes shot off us in to the dirt and reflected in your eye was a glimmer of hope that i confused for yours, but it was only my reflection. later, after tea we embraced eyes shut for two centuries enrobed in each others skin. the others’ warmth enough to satisfy our sperfluous desires.
Leave a Reply