the guitar stand holds air, a reminder of his absence and a bookmark of sorts. the thank-you note i've composed so many times in my head looks painfully ordinary now that it's written out on delicate pink stationary. cold, anonymous, the bare polite necessity.

before putting the postage on the envelope i realize that today might not be the day to put it in the mail. afterall, when my letter will be received is no certain matter. to travel to the far reaches of the galaxy...well, that might take more than two stamps and a half ounce of patience. i center myself and imagine where you are, what you're doing. a sense of pride invades my contemplative peace. foolish that, the weakness of an over-indulged ego.

still, i see myself at the frontline too, blasting apart cells of a cancerous mechanical growth. compartments of silicon filled with chips and gears mass together and fold into one another. the collective machine spits forth meaningless rubbish, trash that piles everywhere, a chaotic mess that threatens to overwhelm at any moment. our objective: identify the mutinous units and destroy.

i scan them individually, noting the mutated instructions for replication. this one, that one, marked for termination. i come across a perfectly normal, innocuously functioning unit. protocol does not require its destruction, and so i pass on to the next.

only upon waking do i see: the camoflage, the subterfuge, the sheer trickery. one must see the part for its whole as well.

take heart, comrades, and be wary of the sheep in wolves' clothing.

our postures slide into mirrored positions, a harmonious union held tentatively by balanced symmetry. i am opened under fingertips, bared by an embrace, totally naked and in plain sight. briefly we share this emotional space, this terrifying sanctuary.

later, politely withdrawn, skin still sighing its somatosensory song, i find it hard to believe that i was alone all along, calling out to darkness and mistaking my own echoes for surreal communication.

my body betrays me. my mind is weak. but there is a difference between knowing a thing and experiencing it.

I am 10 rainbows deep, 8 cherry blossoms high, spread one molecule thick across a vast distance.

the multifaceted nature of affection baffles me as I hazily walk its parameter space. I try in vain to optimize, account for variance, correct for sampling error. fingertips to hands? lips? empathy as foreign aid, or refuge? I glimpse additional dimensions that seem improbable: flattened images of a highly sophisticated emotional intelligence. threads emanate from within, some disparate, some intersecting, each unique in its own complex trajectory. small phrases hang eternal in space, simple thoughts, gestures, while smooth arrows escape the heavy atmosphere.

I squander free food, deny addiction, stop listening to the lecturers, ignore the people around me while my insides are eaten by jealously, sneak past my parents' bedroom at 2AM.

a wave of self-pity overtakes me. it feels so much better than taking responsibility.

if I took that step, what would I become?
drowned in self-loathing,
ineffective, inefficient, withdrawn and flat?

or simply a more honest human being,
less self-absorbed and more empathic?

the election escalates to a hostage situation. gun-happy cronies seize some hapless citizens and threaten to start shooting if their demands are not met. to prove the point, they begin firing at random, and I watch bullets whiz by my head. 20 feet away I see the O of a shotgun barrel pointed straight at me.

but I'm too busy being stabbed to care.

contemplating the dimensions of your expression,

I close my eyes to read between the lines.

reverberating in my bones

is nothing but

static

it's a valentine's day miracle, each person is paired with their ideal. the trendy, the homely, the eccentric make their way to one another and go off to fulfill their wildest fantasies.

my match tells me that his viagra isn't working. I leave him to sleep while I tear down buildings late into the night.

after he awakes, we decide to take a walk. we saunter through crowds at the state fair listening to a beatles cover band.

"why don't we do it in the road..."

trash is piled up everywhere. teenage couples roll about in the dirt. the smell is sickening. my partner gestures to the ground but I refuse. is this what we've come to?

he takes my hand and guides me out of the park. we are walking home when he points out an amazing scene in the distance: towering structures replicate themselves in expanding fractal patterns. I've never seen anything like it, and even his sudden onslaught of sensuality cannot fully captivate my attention.

"wait, this is important..."

but the warmth is already spreading across my face, my neck, filling my head with sweet cotton clouds.

a rubber ball bounces in and out of slots as the roulette wheel spins. even, odd, black, white, a finite number of options, until it falls off the table, rolls out of play, and escapes into absolute nothingness.

the troops are dusty from battle: particles of mortar distinguish individual eyelashes on soldiers, dead and alive alike.

the operation was successful. the operation was a fatal catastrophe. everything splits in two, again, again, again, a combinatorial explosion that racks my feeble brain. in front of me all is mundane and ordinary, but in my periphery a rainbow dusk swells in a kaleidoscope.

a critical point and the mission is aborted. we cursed still see to the end of this ridiculous corridor, a vast ocean of impossibilities.

********

"The foreign dignitary is ushered onto the ship. Austere robots escort her to her chambers, a cavernous space with cathedral ceilings. While she is a tiny speck here, she feels secure and welcome. Over a loud speaker, the ship speaks to her in her native tongue.

'Make yourself at home, we will be at our destination in, how do you say it, a jiffy?'

The machine voice continues: 'You may have noticed the pipe organ in your quarters.'

She has already sat down and run her fingers silently over the polished keys.

'May I suggest Bach's ___ Canons?'

She begins with this as inspiration, a theme, transposed from the original and spiraling ever downward to meet itself.

...and then everything disappeared."

I put down my book and notice the heat building around me. explosions erupt in the distance. In the reflection of the window, I see tiny mushroom clouds growing everywhere. this is it, this is the end. this is the finality of nuclear holocaust. will it be a slow, painful, skin-melting-from-my-face kind of death? or will it all be over in an instant? I pick up my book and think: at least I'll go out in style. what better way to die than with an apocalyptic story at hand?

the heat is almost unbearable now. the air around me shimmers and seems to be filled with gaseous bubbles. the explosions are closer now and I watch them through the window. this close, they look smaller, they spiral up from the ground like no firework I have ever seen.

miraculously, I'm still alive. I wander outside and hear the explosions retreating into the distance. radiant nervous systems undulate through the streets. I fear the intensity of my joy.

**********

I am at an auction. rather, I am an auction. but I have some choice in the matter: my choices lie before me, and to not choose is to be a total loser in this game.

who will it be then, the obviously homosexual priest, dragging stylishly from his cigarette? the overweight redneck, fat bastard sons and german shepherd in tow? an idiot clown thirsting for some ludicrous preconceived notion?

I sit with the other discarded toys and listen to their gushings of misery. I don't feel bad though, I alone am free.

**********

asleep but awake I hear the alert of an infiltration. I am in a house full of books, documents, furniture, my family's prized possessions. my sister stirs in her sleep but does not register my sense of impending doom.

the thief is stealthy, an imposter, a trickster well-versed in the arts of falsehood, empty trust. I pick up the sealed signet ring and unwrap its packaging. twist the outer circle, tilt my head, and the message is clear: an obelisk rises to cast a shadow, a timepiece in the desert. the hour is late and we have precious little time to save ourselves from the monster. the critical point returns: arm ourselves or flee.