Dreams

Yes, they visit every evening
mumbling in with keys of their own
all palming in one hand
a yellowed card of script
and wearing masks of one another

We’ve been rehearsing daily
half aware during these weeks
of years spent on those little scenes
that in the end are always improvised

My friends, sure actors
some assuming villains
and a world worn stranger

gather my fecks and fetch me
bound in brittle cloths of
eyes closed promise
to our nightly reappointed
stage of Yin Yang theater

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