| Vatican Roulette The best way to forget dreams is to remember them, although a strange conundrum results when it's a sin to remember. It was a white-tiled inch-high water dream, your arm-- a strength contrary to my flesh-- holding me against the slip. In a red house surrounded by churches on a white sheeted cot, I remember a face so real it's there in front of me with eyes stripped bare and square shape and sincerity and illogicality. Seven days of crying, but not ever in front of you. |