Last night I dreamt of rats.

Beady-eyed dark as night horror infesting my sleep,

no reprieve.

Big teeth, coarse grey fur crawling with fleas.

And, as they begin to tear at me, I remember their names.

Doubt nibbles at my fingers,

Envy scrabbling towards my eyes,

Shame devouring me whole.

Hello, old friends.

I swim through a shimmering sea of sapphires,

Salt filling my nose and mouth, taste exploding on my tongue,

My legs and arms pumping and sliding through the coldest of winter lakes,

Body erupting in beautiful gooseflesh.



Then I am suddenly not there and then, but here, now, away from my lucid memories.

I feel the steady beat of my pulse in my head,

and imagine I can feel yours as my fingers briefly dance across the back of your hand.

A bitter-sweet inbetwixt:



I blink back sour tears,

crimson trickle eased out of palms by clenched fist-and-nail.



My mind runs wild with thoughts of you,

a long-forgotten smile stretching from ear to ear.



Your taste fills my mouth and her acridity is gone,

a moment that will always last forever.



I am dismissed and distressed,

and as I hear her close the door behind her for the last time I loose a low growl,

the start of a tri-month darkness and a half-year struggle.



I feel a resonance that I once sought to abandon,

the strumming of strings in my heart.

Eyes lock and soundlessly whisper the passionate trinity:



"I loved you."

*"I love you."

She concedes to curiosity.

"Who are you?"

"Why, I am the devil!"

the gentlemen purs,

face rich with dark hilarity.



As questions form on bewildered lips,

he titters:

"Would I lie to you?"

If only things were different,

if only things could change.



If only time ran slower,

if only I wasn't strange.



If only I could have guessed,

if only I knew.



If only my heart was stone,

if only the world would end with you.