Friday, 12 September 2014

In Soviet Russia

I dreamt of you last night.

You were distraught. I was numb and needy. You were in the throes of some woebegone passion, as if you needed to be validated, to be told that it wasn't you, it was me. 

And it was.

In a moment of confusion, I left you, but you found me. They looked, but couldn't see, while you pulled me closer, and with our passions inflamed, we were lost to our desires. You left me wasted, and as I watched you, perverse and shuddering with the force of a thousand shocks, I saw a wave of frightening realization, a snapshot of all my secrets.

The ground stopped shaking, and you walked away.

"This is what you have lost."

-

Hello. So glad to see you well.