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Someone Who Looked Like You MAG
When I once said enough with reality
sleep showed me a dream where
an aeroplane had you for supper
and a glass window tried to soothe my weeping,
rather embarrassed at the scene I was making.
I had an Amazon and a Nile
running down my cheeks and all the way home.
Still, on the day before the day after the sixth
I made plans but I recalled that you were busy
so I took Lonesomeness to a flick and
her little friend insanity tagged along.
All day they jabbered and filled my sore brain
with syringes that sucked out whatever was left in there
and I went home to unravel all the love songs from
their little cassette prisons
and braid them together.
So I walked to the end of a road
who lives three miles away where I got
chased by every word that ever tripped off your lips
and slow-danced with every move
your body ever made.
Sadly, reluctantly, Old Sleep moved aside
and I peeked in a window and stared at me.
And the table was holding a letter from someone
who looked like you, and someone who cried like me
was making the Mississippi
and her tributaries on my pillow.