I don’t know where they come from:
these creatures in the soft pre-morning mind –
the latest, so voluptuously suspect, shady –
ruelessly manipulative: knew that she was
here for only moments: had to make the best
of it: unwind in quick gradations: be Blue Lady.
I’d hoped to keep her longer than she’d stay.
But just as soon as I began to say – she froze
into an icy azure – all the red around her
turned to gelid pink – her freeze-frame stasis
paled back to misnomered “shared reality.”
A single word – and blink: Blue Lady gone.
I do not understand how every night
light bridges out of dark into the dawn, and yet
I cannot link two kindred consciousnesses
into one. As soon as I make sound, the ground
breaks up: tugs all phantasms down. It seems
a shame Blue Lady couldn’t stick around.
.
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