mmdlxxix

Please Inhale Deeply Before The Next Section Ends

Or Something Happened. On either the day before-
hand or seventeen years ago. On the other hand,
the night before, I just don’t know. Ask me again
sometime. Oh! On the night before, our I do? But
I do doesn’t remember (therefore, I don’t?). Realiz-
that this is such child’s play, I decide to make an
entire career out of it. A lifetime career, so to speak,
I write. A lifetime, just to cut it short (despite its
length [which is always too long, relatively speaking]).
So, I make a career out of this, this nothing, this no
thing at all. It’s so very easy. I just close my eyes as 

if all of it happens. And even though it takes forev-
(cf., relatively speaking), we wonder if any of it ever
happened. Or if we made it all up. And if we are to
(eventually, or perhaps inevitably) discover that we’ve...
made it all up...does it go about happening 

(and continuing to happen) nonetheless?

Like the light of the neon sign from the hotel dire-
ctly across the street from our apart-, the light
that burns into our closed eyes each night, be-
aming through the bedroom window and down
onto the us, onto the bed I just now made up.
Just for you.  The moon.  Over us. Lying incessantly
atop our be-...in the bedroom of the apart-
building in which we sleep and(/or, as proof
would suggest,) we have slept and slept and sl-
Over the bed I made up just now. For
you (and for you alone), we await a sign,
each in our respective place (which is not
lying and is not upon any aforementioned bed)
that, upon seething, burns into our closed eyes. 

At night.