I dream of her sometimes and it is and isn’t her. I see her on the street never knowing if it’s her I’ve seen.
I talk to her on the phone. I love you, I tell her, I tell most of them that.
tooo tooo
She loves me too.
Hair color she changes. Makeup she wears and does not wear. She is my first, my last, the current ex.
In dreams we run in the far future, entwine, entwine.
Too many people, the future is full of people,
a solitude solo.
She will not be, never has been. Love is flesh in mind in mouth love is my dark closet of memory love is always
only when gone.
Early
AuthorJure Novak