Deliberate Accidents

Negotiating with the nightmare. She paused. Foul with a sermon on morality. Who knows better than a sinner what not to do. Listen to us. The sinners are the only ones who can save you.

The ladder led up. To higher dimensions. Worlds where I was good enough for them. Worlds I could glimpse, but never enter. The boxed dolls with their feet akimbo. Faking the dance. For the music they can't hear.

I've always been counting. One by one those leaning towers refuse to tumble. I've always been flirting with the portal. Old men with their heavy fists. Pounding absent tables.

I tried to warn him. That this was all disappearing. I only want what I can have. I can only worship tangible gods.

It was too easy. All that time travel. All gymnastics and ball room dances. As if the music wasn't just in my head.

The monkeys on the long branch. Discussing with lax gods. The tiny moments memory would neglect.

Wake up she says. I'm so tired of all this sleeping. She swallows the shoe of the dead doll. And vomits up its toes.

She tells them she's been there. And what will happen. They don't believe her.

She comes back. To the stalwart mannequins. And waits while they dress themselves. She writes down the verb. So that she might remember it. When she's here again.