For someone who loves Winter's cold
you sure keep a lot of insulation, She said
dragging fingers along the walls made of books
Two feet deep of paper separating the world, realities
black ink ideas keeping out the Winter of Others.
Those walls are real in a world of propped up facades
and the natural cold of Winter did not burn his skin blue
like the air conditioning under which humans basked
Won't you fight reality with me? He asked
She didn't know if his unreality could beat reality
He recalled Tennessee Williams departing
with no certain place to go
I was human out of curiosity and, in time, I forgot who I was
The speed, distraction, and subtle intricacies of human living
I don't know who or what I am, only that I must go, find out
And you may find in the end that I was never there to begin with
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