20090128

005.

I have dreamed of you so much that you lose your reality.
I have dreamed of you so much that you lose your reality.
I have dreamed of you so much that you lose your reality.
I have dreamed of you so much that you lose your reality.
I have dreamed of you so much that you lose your reality.

I thought I'd write it on the chalkboard today, big and strong, cutting over teacher's manic scritch-scratch. Up for all souls to see.

Heavy head: The real meat of the deal. Light hands, but not quite lithe. I've made my bed, but God knows I won't lay in it. It's because I've already slept. I thought I was asleep and dreaming just now, as a matter of fact. In my dream, I was watching someone else look elsewhere. The story of my life. It's writing itself. Deception. It'll lead you so far astray then swing you right back, back where you began so, so long ago. Eons ago. If I were really dreaming, if I weren't actually awake, I'd have had the girlish guts to hold your face, and you'd have felt smoother. I was just thinking and, you know, you could keep moving your whole life, you could sit and dread the things you think you're accountable for, or you could lay across my lap and fall limp. I may be lucky. You may let me cast you. In a play, a film. I could make a plaster cast of your face, so normal, just-grown-up. Plain but somehow entirely dark in the most lyrical way, like a hymn. A dim sanctuary. If my hands were more elegant, I swear I'd pray to God. I'd beg him to grant you eternal youth. Selfish, as always, I think maybe my dreams would never grow brittle and old.

Two shy and timid creatures have found each other in safe companionship. The bell kong-kong's at an hour designated for children and mice to cross over into their spirit house. I pull on my gold cape and run for the mouth of the cathedral, throw my body at the door. I have dreamed of you so much.

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