Circumstance

"Your husband is extremely angry with you...."

"I had a jolly bloody hell in that house so do what you like."

"Your smile will be gone soon."

"Even the dead smile."

I selfishly progress mental recovery; he smiles. I lack intuitive grace. Planetary globes deepen Louis Armstrong blues and St. Germain flutes. I am warm obsession. Pure thought is complete silence; we will escape.

"If I indeed had or have whichever comes first to last vice versa, I seriously doubt I would marry a vengeful person. I would desire to marry somebody of great understanding which I cannot live without! If I found myself without him or her whichever appeases your presence, I would be lost into will without thought!"

"I would want to meet him as well. I do not regret this at all. I do not desire to fight about it either. I do need to speak with all of you alone without her listening."

Momentarily not a flinch of worry, lavender impulse; sense of obligation, streaks of electricity, implication of another existence.

They walk away discussing the situation; they promptly return a decision.

"You must now run."

I grab his rolling solid red sleeve cuffing charcoal grey thick gap striped single breast; his tie is unusually black. Loafers shuffle black marks upon tile floors; feet pattern furious mice loose from the cage.

"There you are I cannot lose you, I refuse to lose you, even if they try to separate us I am still with you."

"Even if they desperately try to distance us we will still do what we need together and our desire be the same."

Two demon Centaurs trip over thick hooves and tickle pointy tails, jelly wiggle of giggles; they left us to stand.

"Something has come over me. I find myself doing that which of a partnership I am not physically involved. Do you discover the same trance?"

"Yes I do and this concerns me more than I care to discuss."

We frown same moment; we flow sadness.

"God damn we are married aren't we?"

"Yes....."

"Let's get a damned hotel room and wallow for a while."

"Yes.........."

"While we are there we will share a bed."

"Yeah...."

"I used to believe I would share a bed to rest with a man I regard as my manhood."

"I as well....."

"Now I know we are the same."

"Possibly not the same for anyone else."

Blind perception passes by two men of suited fashion seating a Victorian bench; they will sleep.

The morgue is a restroom for unwanted guests, each their own; home for many but no room for the weary to rest.