The House

Location of forsaken placation; extreme naivete agrees. He appears from dreams; I am alone with him inside a suburban transient of bricks and shrubbery. Our interest is the layout of a charming home; we discuss renovation. His handsomeness is a lifelong through death companionship; his enamoring presence could be the result of chosen amnesia. Happy habitual trances, unspoken words, near miss kisses; somebody is watching, thus fine, they ultimately respect our privacy. I am dominance attempting the bed, accepting of this room's romantic situation; a couple resembling man and woman enter without knocking.

"Who is this?"

"Is this your boyfriend! You cannot do that here!"

I am hostile pollen lust; their obnoxious sounds imitate poorly designed voices.

"Who might you be and if I desire him then I will desire him anywhere."

Underneath my hips he looks into me with worry. I shift into a presentation of the present without recollection of how I am here without him and without the lavender man. I cannot apologize; the deed is done; I return to remembrance.

"We are your mommy and dad!"

His laughter is coy and unusually seductive; his jump is fierce. We remove the interference promptly.

"How in bloody hell would that ugly man and woman be my damned parents? They do not look as me nor act as me; my blood is of Jamaican descent quite obviously and also that of Asian."

"They are not parents for you they are parents for somebody's entertainment for you. They are ugly creations and I don't want them around you."

We fumble sheets as two figures announce we reside the home of nightmares reaping dreams.

"You and him can stay here; we don't know how long we can hold them off."

I carry their elbowed arms away to a portion of the room for a whispered conversation.

"Could you keep them away long enough for me as I am in heat."

"We will do our best."

I am inside the kitchen playing housewife, apron of nothing else, taunting the tease of gentility; I watch myself doing so without regret, this to me is important.

"You cannot do that here!"

"We love you very much! Don't you understand?"

My feverish miserable head settles between his cool hands; he covers me with a single breasted suit jacket. He proceeds to rid them of our immodest abode. Astonishing my silence he hugs me brighter than innocence and sweeter than honey nectar. Indulging sensuality of fleeting moments the house grows a pair of horns; I desire the man. Lavender essence floats about the ceiling; I unscrew the light bulbs for intimate darkness. The fragrance reminds me of someone I need to recall lest I die. Arms lift me from the stand I am tall carrying us away; I forget whence I came.

They return for horror flick projections.

"How can I love you in any way? I know not of you nor do I want you here. Please leave I am with him and we desire to be alone with each other. I do not care for you or your presence. I am obviously not your child. Look at me...."

Their eyes hollow of gray matter and senses, routine figurines. He snorts a cocaine addiction, drinks coffee as bag intermission, and obsesses man's religion; she is vaguely foreign mockery, tacky beyond description, and overwhelmingly dramatic. Their age is the appearance of social seniority; I am the appearance of teenage magazines. Illogic continues; I wonder why people do not intervene.

I overheat into begging; I sit upon my knees.

"Please guard us as I am on my mission."

Vision of a white tiger cub prancing through a field of powder purple herbs is beautiful infatuation.

"What's come over you? Don't worry about them. This cannot last for a masquerade. It will feel never ending but it must. I promise you that with my existence."

"If I was a married woman would you still desire me?"

"Yes....."

Let us consummate every room before the supposed parents; they persist words of love and disapproval. Over and over we bid them an exit; they return.

His nightmarish apartment hosts a "lover"; I doth remove him promptly to be done again, tears fall upon my lap. This battle is never won; we run from time.

Shivering lavender streams from a vase; I feel as such.

An unworthy explanation for absent husbands. Awareness enlightens affairs but the dead of night came back as virgins; start anew or lose ourselves.