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Euclidean Dreams

I have a memory of a version of myself I've never been. It is a classic ski, sliding dimly beneath the surface of snow, a remnant of another life climbing uphill. I feel the drive to find that person. I know I am that person, though she has never been me. She is bold and risky. She stays up all night dancing; at dawn she considers the feel of words in her mouth, like melting creamy moonlit ice cream fellated on a layered spoon. She is selfsame purity I cannot reach. An essence, a true name.

You know me too. I feel it. "Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along." Rumi, remember? You're in me. We've met in this never-place of sleptover castle walls. You've climbed to me a thousand lifetimes already. And yet, tonight, I worry you've forgotten. Perhaps I've grown over with moss and you don't recognize me this lifetime. "I'm trapped within you" a dream pebble in your palm. Clench your fist and you'll remember my cone hat and princess dress. "Climb my tower, rescue us."

I'm lonely with waiting in my tower. Going to sleep too early. I can stay up a few more minutes. Write you back into me. Within myself, a refracted set of pixels, held just right, sparkling with truth, I hang in a window looking onto your garden, plants preening for you. You are the sun, and we all turn toward you. And I? I do not mind being the fractal of a self that redoubles and turns. Do you not see how your light flies through me? How I dance you in every step?

We are each other's turns and twists. And I, I have found you today, in the words of poems like this by Neruda. 

Though I am wrapped in your rhythm, I am not in your arms. And yet just before sleep, I know this fractal's lifespan, repeats. I pull down the metal chain of my bedside lamp, letting go the green light of today. Sleep shall bring an expanding symmetry of us...unfolding in Euclidean dreams.

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