No entiendo bien cuando voy contigo

9 05 2008

How could he know his vision was real

Upon waking, his dream never left him

Materializing to the opening of his eyes

He heard “it is time to leave” before he wanted to stay

And leaving shame on the pillow, he left.

Effervescent memories and lurid tales of consent

Hold no place in this hour

For consent is contentment

And memory is sensation

The gravel driveway both awakened and subdued his senses

So fantastical and so obviously false

(As are most visions)

Although the scraped feet are strange indeed

And has vision ever translated sunlight like this?

Reeled in by reality

Mesmerized by mentality.

Sensational Memory shall it be called

For reality offers no such joy

(Save, perhaps, shoes

As my scraped feet are strange indeed)




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