Blue Music Dream, Poetics

Accomplice.

yet, i talk to you as is the fashion

of the forwards of books by unknown authors

 

imitation bodies

 

eyes an unblinking display, closed signals

of a time we used to talk, exploding into vowels and vapor

 

fingers stretching out, collapsible on contact with light

we were magnificent, living dead along a vertical bed

 

now i decode teleprompts in the eyes of strangers

as private, momentary thoughts we had

 

walking along a street i meet you from another time

almost holding the hand of the other, lover?

 

you do not see me,

but our reflections quiver on banking halls’ walls, signals

 

ferrying our souls to the park, the café, or, alas, back home

alone to a pile of laundry, mothballs, books, dolls.

 

for now, adjustable prosthetic limbs, you balance on flat heels

contemplate new and emerging markets for

 

the experiments we call dreams,

forgetting when we invented a different language

 

to be broadcast through touch.

its etymology a thing hidden in the future

 

our eyes are now coated

 in the mascara of strangers

 

a film of gold

paves our vision as soon as a blink is possible

 

the languages we are busy forgetting

our only accomplice.

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