let me tell you another dream where I was holding your hand
while you were passing out. it was a huge success, as always.
a party wherein the nature of the water was such that the water
was warm to the touch, meaning slightly warmer than you and
me. we were not yet dreaming when it began, and everybody
came to the party. there was N and R, J, S, A, and little a. we
didn’t always abbreviate so. once, we were more than honest.
as the party wound to a close, volunteers trolled the waters for
those who had waited simply to be trolled. all negativity had
been defeated in the large kitchen where the punch was
drunk and the reverie was molten. it was there that I forgot
the dream I wanted to tell you, where I discovered that your
hand was melting.
