I know you know you don't know you know

The dream I dreamt last night took me inside of you from the outside of you and I found the reflection of love in the inspection of my reflection inside you. Whisked away to Manhattan, I was with you at Barney's again as I have never been. The lights the excitement..I couldn't escape until I understood. Awake now and still asleep as I was then.

I created what I now can not comprehend as you have reinterpreted it and returned it to me in my disbelief. Teach me what it means and I may find it is one in the same. That which is yours and that which is mine. Must I scream?

A man was shot last night, right in front of me practically, me in my window getting water and going to bed. A slow car stopped the sound of the blast stood like exclaimations in the cold night air. I was undisturbed, then again a blast the repetition of sound alluded my ability to perceive the reality perhaps, a reality I had already predicted, from the other side of the water fall, like a mermaid where I live. In the world where the worlds bisect. All at once to live in it and apart from it surrealism is my reality.

Anachronism depends on who's point of view is right, how many of me can there be from the windows of spirit that tie and separate. The man unknow shot 4 times blood flood from him as do the rivers long to do, let it be. In the calmness of his delirium he found the source of his mortality and embraced. Police so beautiful and true speak my language in a moment my statement was none that would conclude. I witnessed only what had occurred, a man disowned, a man dispared, a man in disbelief, a man bleeding from an injury, a man who should live. Its what I saw. I saw beauty, I saw conflict, I saw expression, I saw the translation, I saw the rebirth, I saw the configuration. Later on I slept.

I want to paint purple lizards on my door frame. I want to write a better verse. I want my youth. I want, I want, I want, go slow I must do. A memory, a duplicity reversed. I forgot again. I had so much to do, then it was too late for the memory to make sense for me. I moved on again. I recall. Complexity. Anaylze the word instead I might. A trick, when you identify with your surroundings you may think that is you, but no, its a vanity. Understand? Compassion is so much more than identification, it's knowing and understanding the human condition to the degree that you are elevated to advance it.

If I called you on the phone, what would you say. What would happen then, what would it do to my mind. May I speak? What color would it be, may I come inside the realm that has taunted and invited me or shall I prefer the isolation of the door frame? Neither in nor out, neither with nor without? What did you decide upon, hours gone, minutes tick, heat lick, the liquid that flows and falls on my lap. I am waiting for you to see my point of view and agree. However, waiting will create dishonesty for me so I go like this then like that, the underwater prism, gives time when you need it.

Its not the answers, its the direction of the question that causes this disturbance. The answers you seek are already yours, so to speak. The stillness, makes you likeable, comprehensible, but what is it costing you? Be true, alas if only to thine ownself be true...define thyself then perhaps? The difference between curiosity and philosophy is depth not luck.

Perhaps in this mess, some truth will come to light, get passed a wrong or right, then understanding is what it must be. I see..