Then I Coould Dream

I look back now and I wonder what I saw in you. I wonder if I saw you at all. Maybe I was I blind. Maybe I was staring at a mirror.

Was this what I wanted? Or just what I came to accept?

Perhaps I know too much about you. Maybe I don’t know you at all.

Did you lie to me all these years? Did you say the words? … Did you let me?

I look at you and I see you there – dressed in the remnants of my desire – just as I wear the faded skin for you.

But now these masks hide nothing – not a single line – and all that’s left is all too real.

I wish we were strangers – for then I could dream of you again. It was much better that way.

At the end of the day, even the angels turn out to be ordinary. Oh well.

And now all my desire has come down to this – waiting in this room with you – waiting for the cue to leave.

If I said I was ready – right now – in the very next breath …  would you?

Would you?

[This letter is an extract from a dance theatre piece called ‘An Incomplete Map of Desire]





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