Oh no, I've made a mess again, my hands are covered in tears. Across the floor an empty smile and jars that let out my fears.

She crossed the desert with blood dried on her hands and flies that lingered on her eyelashes.

Across the room sprang little lights that danced amongst the dust.

She sat on the floor of her room. With her hands cupped, she watched her life play from the projector of her mind.

I dreamt a dream that you were here, and we were there, and then was now, and now was real.

We watched the play come to an end
and anticipated the clapping
which was no indication of the performance
but rather an obligation, complete with smiles