she would suppose we would share in treating
a thomas newman score -
as if reviving debussy or satie back to life...
but such was the potency of our delusion -
that in life... whatever came automated -
dream bound, never arrived at the altar
of us ever appreciating it...
dreams became boring at best...
no other verbiage could ever describe it...
not grand anglo-saxon dream-worlds
of a h. p lovecraft...
we lived our unfulfilled minutes,
days and dreams, under a microscope
of unfulfilment - not bound
to the sort of order that sleep provides
the dreamer, but to the conscious chaos
that the wake comes as soon as a man
is born - beside the orthodox forbidden qualms
of merely nightmarish:
siamese godhead...
but more... in the realm
of the "sociopathic" aesthetic...
imagining 3 centimeters to equal an inch...
these are my words,
while i can grieve you her insinuations...
forever spiraling into confusion...
which is not exactly a confusion -
rather: a... weakening of the appetites...
it's a confusion born from denial...
and that's never truly modified to fit
a one off trim clique worth of a dress...
i can dream all i can:
but i rather not dream...
i can forfeit my dreams...
i wish to forfeit my ability to dream...
i don't want to dream,
i don't want to escape what otherwise binds me
to each of me, to my subservient count
of an hour without her...
however taboo fuelled the affair might be...
however imperfect it already is:
which is an understatement...
i can only revel in the cosmic genius
of us laughing together...
till we became stomach-aching
and intestines churning sick from
that eternal syllable of HA...
and if it's no more real in my head
than it could ever be in hers...
what does it matter?
who has been named?
i have a reference point to 1999 cinema...
i don't even know her reference points...
it's hardly a vantage point
to begin from an investment in the imaginary...
she's no Andromeda or a Helen...
she's always as simply as i simply am matthew:
she's always the same प्रिया
as i have been to prostitutes that i kissed:
nice...
perhaps she was a Samantha
or a Milena...
yet her older sister talked about
the three of us, strapped to a deserted
robinson crusoe island...
and thank god i'm not dreaming...
there are so many avenues the waking crowd
care to reject...
i come to entertain...
it is beside whether i "get" what most would
associate with acquiring...
since i already have what most would
associate with begetting...
whether that contradicts her free will,
or whether it overstretches me exercising it...

it is beside whether i have what most would
associate with acquiring...
since i already have what most would
associate with having...

besides:
i am fated... to either die in my sleep...
and acquire a waking...
or i am fated to... die awake...
while acquiring a dream.
i will judge either circumstance exodus-zenith as:
the tip of this unfinished cigarette...
this remaining glass of ms. amber and ginger...
to keep a love...
without children, without marriage...
pristine outside of the clingy niqab...
without social norms and expectations...
well... i tried keeping a pet fox...
that lasted for about a month...

however... i have yet to experience
the ambitions of the continuation of legacy...
of lineage...
in those affairs...
i am certain... that i am... becoming freed of;
to have to capitalize upon.