After Today.

Dear Fantastic Lover,


Is scarcity and loss our only true love, our only romance?  I woke to find I have been living the fin de siècle for 17 years now.  That is perhaps too much?  I know in your compassion you will allow me my pretend world, and, to return the favor, I grant you permission to live in yours.  Together, I only hope we can make some kind of decent hash out of the leftovers tomorrow.

What do you do, though, when a hole is punched into your wall?  When you see that the size of the room is so small, because you see suddenly beyond the scrim?  I suppose you must stretch, uncomfortably, with difficulty, into this new space, also.  I don't know that I believe in the improvements wrought by growth, by time.  I think it may be complete rot, and all improvements mere illusions.  Always, they tell me, always, try hard, try to improve;  They say; you are getting better, you are improving, you are doing well; considering your skills, your age, the times.

I dreamed all this, and it was true.

I joined a band- you were the leader, and I was terrible, I was supposed to dress scantily and keep the beat, on your right.  Another one, she was to keep it on your left, but she was to wear more.  She was to keep a bit hidden.  Our three voices wavered all over, we could not find any confident note.  They were making a film, also.  We two were to jump off the raised stage, into a lake, into the waters of the unconscious, and this is where we shone:  We were to come up for air, to sing, and to swim, in gasping, short, bursts.  We were to grab at small floating pieces of sodden presents, wrapped with ribbon.  We were excellent at this, we sounded so true, so whole; we were good, just for a camera's moment.

Suddenly, an 8 foot circle of wall broke away, and the water of the lake began to drain through it, and I waved a sorrowful goodbye to our band, to our song, to you.  And there was all that space beyond.  Our song had not really mattered at all, if it was good, or bad, it hadn't even really been at all. 

Is this growth?  Is it improvement?  Is it good?  Is it bad?  I know what you will say, what you would say;  It just is.