I have been in hotels where the view was painted
on the wall. I have followed the rhyme of your hands
to a museum where you explained your art
in a language I didn't understand. All these places I have been.

I have swallowed my own cries as the silver screen
brought my fears to life. I have opened a book and drowned
in its ocean. I have spoken bubbles in the pages
of comic books. All these dreams I have had.

When the record is broken there is no music,
and its threads are like an alphabet abandoned
at the bottom of a tomb when the kingdom collapsed.
When the orphans stole all the homes from the families.

Or in the nightmare I'm creating for you right now
in the museum of your hidden art. In love,
which also collapses, like a mirror on top of a mirror,
leaving infinite worlds that cannot stop dividing.
posted by Adam at 1:29 PM [edit]