he reflected the moon

“So if you wake up one morning and it’s a particularly beautiful day, you’ll know we made it. Okay, I’m signing out.” Sunshine, 2007.

“i need someone who absorbs the sun.

i am the sun.

this feeling, it’s retroactive. it’s irrational but founded. there can’t be two sources of light occupying the same place at the same time. i learned that from lauryn hill, zealot.

i was going to say to him: now. me and you and this moment, only. let’s find an old man, dressed in white, with rheumy eyes and a swollen nose. an old man who smells sweet and eats raw onions. and let’s ask that old man to preside. we’ll have to ask him twice and spell my name out slowly.

i stopped myself. recognised the feeling as suicide, a snuffing of the fire. no red dragon, tommy.

water between us. i wish for telepathy, communication without capital.

are you reading me?

he offered a holiday. vocalised a wish. we had one, love, remember. it ended at dawn, when the sun rose and the crowds gathered. vulturing.

i didn’t realise that i repeated. i mean, i know i have patterns, i conducted my own rhythmanalysis years ago, in red lighting. i just hadn’t noticed this particular pattern. moth to light. bee to flower. me to you. reincarnation, of energy. no courage though, no follow-through. hard to see anything but failure now. on the bright side, repetitive disappointment as a determinant of success.

try, try, try (a little tenderness). i’m trying.

tracy said that it sounded like a whisper. in my mind, it’s a scream…”

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