September 23, 1991

I dream of you
through scarlet dream-like
hazy
curtains of clouds.
You are coming near me.
The closer you are,
the stronger I feel
your merciless grip
tightening around my body,
my waist,
no, now, my neck.
Do you want to kill me?
It has been so long.
I never knew exactly
what I would do
if I’d see your face again.

Your face, your face,
I try to forget,
but it corners me again,
mercilessly,
and the closer you are,
the more I want to kiss you,
no, kill you,
I love you too much.
You encompass me,
my being,
and take me in
all, leaving me no freedom
to breathe
to be.

How can you be so cruel?

I dream of you,
I see you
in every word I write,
in every face I see.
You follow me
everywhere.

Shots of color,
burning bright,
striking ceaselessly,
one overpowering the other.
Bombs go off.
Then, nothing, white.

Wait.

And I see you,
coming closer,
encompassing me,
until you are me.

My warm young hand clutches the soft familiar covers.
One breath,
and in a moment,
I’m falling.