Dreaming about the end of the world | 3 February 2007

Dreaming about the end of the world, and somehow you’re in it. Why are you showing up lately? Always, this awareness that we can’t be together. You were you but thinner. I wanted all of you, but you had to leave. Candy coins in different flavors, my ticket to the subway, trying to get back to you, where is the end of all of this?

Magic, a washer, a leaf stuck in the dog’s fur. Happiness. How you’re not here, and haven’t been. Writing words that don’t make sense…

I want to remember standing at the back door in a white robe, watching Belle walk through the yard, her scent alive as she is, as I am. Who holds the key?

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