It seems that we’ve
stolen and stolen
from each other in such
deep and beautiful ways.
For example, I always
awaken to the most
wonderful sky filled
with white fluffy pillows.
For example, I awaken
to darkness, a resplendent
darkness because you’re
using me as your fluffy pillow.
Always on the run, often
kleptomaniacal, we glisten
over one magazine or the
other, taking snapshots in our heads.
These get developed, blown-
up, inevitably, by strange
and divergent processes that
neither quite gleans from the other.
