Gremlins

Close enough. Or so the source conceded. Bow ties and tuxedos deciding the shape of softer skeletons. In the when. In the if. Time would allow. Safe passage for such anomalies as us. The cardboard valentine. The metered smile. Approving negligently of the touch. The dress. In long sequences of bourbon and beer. The afterward discarding us. In favor of more potent illusions.

I could die that way. There in the past. But how then could it have happened. I could go there. Tease the grapes out of their shoes. But whose footprints who have led me here.

The angels with their fingers on the shutter. Coaxing dead cameras from their comas. Talking us into thinking we had seen. Heaven. or some place near to it. Where solvent gods still answer questions of skin.

In nightmares we still trust aren't real.