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Remebering another moment when I wanted to let things be real. Now, having watched myself move, walk waking through a collection of dreams. Wanting to know the meanning. Maybe regretting, maybe attached. Watching myself caring in that I don't like the not caring. the fear I feel, and fearing that maybe the fear is real. maybe I am right and it is pointless. I have lost my sense of self many times before, but not so much my sense of meaning, of god; whatever..... I want it not to be a pointless game, but I don't know what I'm looking for it to be.

From here, I feel as though I can stand in all rivers at once.

Fell off of this dream and splattered across the pavement
hit the ground hard with a hollow sound
bounced once and then rolled
to another sleep.
But this dream with you I know is the sweetest.
Sweeter each time I wake.

And now, this is the first sleepless night
after first said, "I love you"
I mean
I love the way life moves through you and
also I love you
you are so beautiful.

I lay here and tremble, the way your fingers touch the pages of your book
and the way your lips touch each word and
taste it by feeling
as though, from the heart--never thought.

And I slide down
in my black lace against your black leather chair
you stand facing me, honest and joy,
naked except for the spliff

In another life, I learned to doubt this
but not anymore
this dream is real.

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