In Dreaming

art by author

Je vis 

I listen to La traviata when I want to be your 
boyfriend. Grab the insides of my thighs, 
hold my breath and count to perfection. 
You have no idea the lengths I measure in 
anachronistic time. You have no idea the 
thoughts I maim to keep from ill appearance

Je meurs 

You hate my freedom. I hate your pretense. 
I love only the faces of mouths around 
bleeding teeth. The harder you work the 
more I want to make an example of myself. 
Flesh out centre thoughts and send them 
hovering around ambivalence. You look so 
pretty with your mouth about to shatter the 
pulse of rationality. You look so pretty 
with your mouth around bleeding teeth

Je rêve 

Strange things are happening here. I see 
your motion picture from idle irises, longing. 
Foraging like the urge that owns my animal. 
Longing. I want to be cut and carried. Half 
girl half an avalanche. The people versus 
the pervert. The ocean versus the ether. 
Elysium. Half human half heaven. Elysium. 
Half home half an after. The person versus 
the paradigm. I see your soft shadow 
around thoughts from open throats

Je rêve 

If you want to bury me, bury me like whisper 
music. The harsh is an edible injection but 
I’ve tasted fear enough to know it ends 
enduring. Je rêve. When all are clawing for 
one of many faces, I dream. If you want to 
carry me, carry me. The hopeful isn’t sexy, 
or so you haven’t said. And you’re a better 
sadist, though we’re equally alone