Through one door and out the other, there are flashes of light on your face and static charges that jump the length of my arm. Linking my fingers with yours, there are crowds of people that swarm around us as you try removing your clothes much to my annoyance. Teeth, Fingernails. Your smile as you throw your scarf up into the air like confetti. Those waves of thought as you stand there with the moon on your tongue as dreams of a life you’ll never know slip from out of your grasp. But what’s there to cry about, for we’ll just dream us another. Biting down on the cigarette, I breathe in the fumes of failure and laugh so hard that it makes my stomach ache. Chewing your hair, you cry before singing like a bird in a cage until your heart is alive and beating so fast that you have to sit down and dig your nails into the palms of your sweaty hands to regain control. Although my memory is going, I remember the way you used to get so angry. Those tears of yours as you tried so hard to be like those around you while all I could do was revel in my brokenness. The bottle. Perverse fantasy. Enough solitude to make even the man in the moon wish for a way out. Remember how you never liked the tongues of dogs? Those big tongues that went to the floor so wet and slippery? I was with you there. Yeah, I was with you there, and here comes another door and another you with that look in your eye that would always tell me to brace myself for something spectacular.