Inside the saliva that forms when she parts her lips
The dream was a steady drip
He knew
Art never passes beyond an approximation
Unless it reaches someone
But knowing the woman he loved dug her claws into his skin
It was no longer an opinion
Or an accusation
It was reality
And it no longer required a brush to play pretend
To paint the warm tears upon a canvas required his own
Because then he would know it was true
Deciding between truth and faith tore his heart apart
He wanted to believe
And not know
Because belief was hope
And knowing was fear
Fear that the cornerstone of his being was as human as blood
Blood that could not be washed away
Only form a river of electrical activity on a screen full of dots
It meant he was alive
But he realized he was translating himself from another life
The words were easy to write
But the meaning required a life to have been lived
That way his errors could be identified
And meaning
And unresolved memories
Like water spilling out his side
Could moisten her lips while she made love to another man
So he could dream again