there was a fluttering an overlay their faces their personsphysicality the last two women he loved in his life
his wife after she died never came to him in his dreams as
herself she always wore another womans
guise and spoke to him in their voice
when their separation was
imminent he said her name she
blushed he asked her why she didnt come to him as herself Youre safe in my dreams Youre as safe in my dreams as you were in my
arms
she smiled her eyes shined I thought you wanted someone elsenot
me.
Knucklehead I married you If I wanted somebody else I wouldnt have
married youvowed to you Till death do we part
Now Im dead.
a frightful thing to hear
in ones dream
Yes You are dead
So now I can be all the women I
thought you wanted. All the women who
pursued you . .
. . Who I
never noticed because I was looking at you
I saw.
Don’t you think that matters?
I think love it mattered to you I didnt see I only saw you
they juxtaposed over each
other disconcertingly spliced film stooping
low almost kneelingtheir dress
at the wood floor thensuddenly emergent upright turned in the other direction
they
they ordered small toyssmall precisely
painted people in different poses who they placed about small village buildings they imagined the little people would inhabit that made up a small town and chapel at his feet at the foot of their bed on the huge oval rug of autumnal colours laid before the hearth of the stone fireplace
the toys were delivered at night
it angered him that they took
the delivery from strangers opening the wide door to their furtive midnight knocks so not to wake him their house one great room and a bath and a
loft where he wrote where their library was on three walls of shelves between
small windows that glared at sunset
Who delivers these toys
Deliverymen.
In the middle of the night
There’s not been trouble. they accused
him
Theres never trouble until there
is Beg trouble enough itll come
Youre being ridiculous.
Im asleep I cant be ridiculous
And what have you paid for the good
townspeople the chapel the cobblestone the gaslight posts and braziers
the perfect thatchedroofed slateroofed homes the outbuildings and farm animals
and fences and gates and shrubs and trees small footbridges worn paths all so elegant and very eloquent
Like
a childs storybook
The money purchases my happiness.
one saidthe other said their faces moving in and out of one another so that he
couldnt arrest eithermake focus on their eyes
Don’t you love me? they asked
Yes I love you and they smiled their lips curled almost as if they were kissing
each other as their visages merged and passed
And of the silver bugs that crawlthe
infestation of shining black mites accompanying them slithering between your townspeople crawling
on top the buildings How are you going
to rid our home of them Gifts I can
imagine from the strangers who delivered your toys We didnt have them prior to your village
You wont help me? they asked
There are so many.
I wont help you I was asleep I didnt accept packages in the middle of the night
And so the juxtaposed dream figuresbound
at the hip knelt turned akimbo backtoback sidetoside reached through each otherthat seemed to begin as an embrace after the fleeing insects they moved like an exquisite flame
he watched them lovingly
he loved them
onedead onealive
intertwined fused
a dream, early morning Sunday, 29
7 18
now
1251
Dale Cooper Quartet and The
Dictaphones Une Cellier https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eyaTH-a3_E
