Our dresses

We wore tight skirts and dresses

to philosophy class.

And we participated.

O God,

how much we participated.

‘Do not stop thinking

keep wide awake.’

We reminded ourselves

as the dawn broke the day.

How beautifully thin we got.

Now our dresses could be tighter

and shorter.  

Among the rambling sounds of cityscapes,

the sights of fleeting images,

our heads exploded.

Parts of our brains left stains

on the frames

of the glass of

his glasses.

She had left him.

All he had left of her was

us.

All that was left of us

was

that body underneath

the dress.

He counted our freckles, our

bones until

it bored him.

Until

his gaze rested upon

another statue.  

The days were getting shorter when

we started sleeping.

We slept and slept and slept.

O God, how much we slept.

We kept the curtains closed.

We found ourselves waking up.

And the sunbeams drawing

patterns on our sheets.

Less sharp now, but we were

clearly seeing

the faces in the streets.

And it took a long time, but

a while until  

we found our smile back in

tv-commercials

our heads back

in our beds.