Imaginary Imagination

My Husband desires a belated elder type student, being me, for model demonstration of sensitive motion; his arms wrap around my waist, prior to the moment never attempted such, lost inside a warping reality we both contemplate another self. Our hands touch inside a blouse to my belly portion, his fingers are firm upon me; I desire his chest for pleasure uncovering another undisclosed man hidden within, wherever he may be no matter the destination I shall find him, we will be eternity.

I lay within darkness of distant concentration to see Katarzyna garmenting electric blue embroidery hand sewn silk spectrometric purifying vivid colors of red, silver, gold, bright emerald; the collar slips gentility baring her neck, sleeves draw ten digits carrying a cloth I am unable to glimpse, my concentration is her face. Jetting dark strands portion her left profile to a fuzzy childlike dome; her eyes are a mystery, the lids often swear charcoal embellishment. She walks to front the drifting self, she walks to the right holding a lavender sheath; I attach myself to this vision awakening a nightmarish realm.

Avie scrunches my belly she prefers over a pillow; she is slightly frustrating hardness. I gaze the corner mirror awaiting My Boyfriend's arrival, he is unimaginably handsome. My Daughter buzzes a shock sparking my left nipple whimpering an itch, I turn to cuddle her lustrous black mane to hear the door close; she coos a dream of satisfaction after temper dismay and battle with visual fallacy.

Rosa's innocence is adorable; I gather her for play spinning her inside my hands, she is a fallen angel I glide throughout an empty classroom; the children graduated from puzzles and riddles. She vacillated reciting verbs, pronouns, possible diagram analogies for literary madness, I listened intently, her brilliance astounds me; silence befalls tear drops tapping oak.

"Don't tell him I did that."

"Huh?"

"Rosa....."

"Teacher....."

I laugh for her deliberate titling of a preliminary paraphrasing woman's strict discretization; her tuft of blonde clearness curves intrigue over a bluish church grave. An index tough tip pugs my broken boy, number four; I rarely surprise for any.

"What was that about?"

"He watched us the whole time."

"Dearest me."

"You fear having children."

".....I do not."

"Uh huh yeah, you do."

"Rosa....."

"Scared Teacher....."

"You are humorous."

"So are you!"

"What if I do?"

"I would recognize them immediately."

"Are you sure?"

"....."

"What will I do when you are grown?"

"You cannot treat me like a baby that's for sure."

"I do that to you?"

"Yes."

"Oh.....you are a very cute little boy."

"That's what everybody tells me."

"Do you feel cute?"

"I feel....."

".....?"

"Small!"

"You will not be small for much worry."

"Would you recognize me if I wasn't?"

"I do not know."

"Will you look the same?"

"I don't know."

"I always want you to look the way you do this moment....."

"I cannot ask the same of you?"

"No."

Simon graces my lap with a sleeping forearm; he informs me dreaming on his left stole a muscle he thought belonged to him.

"Whose?"

"Whom?"

"Ah....."

"You do know."

"Hhhmmm....."

Chester gathers him swiftly for a spin high above a kind man bidding a child tenderness. Simon delights sweet giggles and ticklishness; I am concerned for the porridge I prepared for him however his stomach digests well, he calmly walks towards me cursing sport utility vehicles and buildings boasting over sized targets. I do not jest with him; he is very affectionate before bedding woeful sorrow, he rests most of his daylight to evening which I never understood until now. He yawns a sideways churn; his mouth is fasting meditation.

"I'm not very hungry."

"How about an apple.....?"

"Is that what you eat?"

"Tis my favorite."

"Okay."

Enormous crunches of splendor is our solemn agreement; those teeth will remember me.

"Are you tired?"

"I'm depressed; that is why I sleep so much."

"I will do the same."

"Why?"

"I can't explain."

"Try....."

"I must of been a horrible person; I cannot recall what....."

"You do wander into a scheme of portrait aspects."

"Elaborate..."

"You would rather be in a situated population; you believe that to be where you are needed the most."

"I was wrong."

"Were you?"

"There was a village burning flames of eruption; Ruby and I rode a special transport to their location."

"Who's Ruby?"

"My twin....."

"Do I have one?"

"Most everybody does."

"How come some do not?"

"They are a whole."

"Oh...then what happened?"

"The people foresaw distress; they gathered theirs and waited by a pasture. Unfortunately many tinkered with Albert's wheel and it......broke......"

"You needed that to go back whence you came?"

"Very much so....."

"Everybody was rescued?"

"There was a cat.....he attached himself to my right shoulder. I told him to bear me a kitten for comfort; I do believe he understood."

"What else happened?"

"Ruby found a puppy which did the same."

"He doesn't like dogs?"

"....."

"Neither of them bother me so much. Why do cats....."

"Oh dearest me Samuel I am allergic and territorial over fish."

"You're just like them."

"Yes....."

"They don't like each other?"

"No....."

"That's stupid."

"Yes....."

"Okay.....so then what happened?"

"We found something."

"What was it?"

"It appeared to be a tube with rounded edges."

"What was inside?"

"We could not see; the color is opaque."

"What does that mean?"

"Ghostly.....I will show you with this glass of tea."

Pouring a hot liquid into ceramic is ever cautious; we watch thick vapor clouds hover into a blinding mass of grey.

"Wow......"

"Do you know?"

"That's exactly what it was....."

"?"

"An opaque ghost."

A spurt of metabolic energy motivates his jog around the cubicle barrier space, actual carpeted polished metal frame slates, he laps seven rounds before drinking my tea in four gulps.

"Enjoyable?"

"Sorry....."

"Why do you say that?"

"Ignorance."

"....."

"It doesn't make us feel any better or change anything."

"....."

He cries an immense sorrow filling the cup; I think of his candidness while he disappears. My maternal masculinity rushes instinct however my body weakens mental stuttering, captivity arrests my motivation, I am stuck inside a hole of morrow. Smoky amber vegetarian protein spikes my nostrils, a child brings me a brewed concoction.

"Did that take a long time?"

"I felt every notch."

"Oh.....please drink this."

"Interesting....."

The flavor is citrus essence, mineral water, agave nectar, and mysterious herb. Serene digestion enlightens my presence; I am naturally high.

"I hope you always feel like that."

"I know who your mother is....."

"....."

"They call her Marsha."

"Can I call her something else?"

"Yes."

"I will call her....."

"I'm screwed."

"No I don't want to call her screwed."

"Okay."

"Hhhmmm.....I guess I'll call her mom."

"She needs another name....."

"How about...Lucinda?"

"You will be the one to give such."

"Maybe not."

"Why?"

"I'm pissed off."

".....?"

"There is blood coming out of your nose, ears, and mouth."

"That happens....."

Simon freezes a shocking lesson, regret; he removes his white sweatshirt revealing a t-shirt with graphic print.

I'm with stupid =>

"Somebody is messing with you."

"That's why....."

"Your head."

"Yes....."

"There are blood vessels inside your skull."

"Yes....."

"It must be hollow."

"Three layers."

"The first one is complete like a proposed regularity."

"The second is made of twine spacing pillars."

"There must be blood vessels connecting the third."

"The last looks like a....."

"Bird."

"What kind?"

"A crow."

"How did you know?"

"I saw one after I was born."

"What did he do?"

"He told me I was going to die."

"....."

"When?"

"When you do."

"I've been dead a while."

"....."

"How can I die again?"

"....."

"I'm married."

"He will be with you."

"Where will we be?"

"Inside a cave."

"The bats....."

"That's when you will come back."

"What about you?"

"I don't like it here too much."

"I will miss you."

"I will go through this with you."

"What?"

"What is Marsha doing?"

"Simon....."

"Will you recognize me?"

"Will you recognize me?"

"Yes."

"I will always think of you as this."

"A little kid?"

"....."

"I'll always think of you as my teacher."

"I don't want you to suffer."

"It's the only way."

Simon disappears, number ninety-seven; I convulse terror for eighteen moons. Stephanie robes me, Thad ices my throbbing migraines, Chester curses rapidly; the phrase "fat bitch" is spoken two hundred and ten bloody blobs.

David approves of the legitimate child undergoing each dreadful procedure; I broke nineteen walls searching for him, they finally lay me next to my husband, he broke nineteen as well, we both shy for insecurity.

Simon and Simone sit next to us trapped inside a blank gaze of visibility; we faint horror while they both map a dream.