last night i dreamed i was in this highrise apartment building with a crush i have. we were checking out this one apartment, to see if leon and i would consider buying it, because it was the same highrise [info]freakykitten and [info]a_narchist were living in and we thought it would be fun. anyway, my crush and i spent the afternoon there, and at one point went to lay down on the bed together, where i made my move, but, while he didn't exactly reject me, he didn't really respond in kind nor seem enthusiastic about it, and i was despondant. he left, and a real estate agent showed up. he was very slick. he gave me the grand tour. it was a pretty amazing apartment - we were on the 20th floor and had a great view of the vancouver skyline. the bathroom was huge and boasted double tubs, each of them super deep. it was only 2 bedrooms but the whole place was 1700 square feet with a bigger kitchen than what i have here. the agent was really pressuring me and i finally said, "okay, we'll take it, but only if you offer a two year warranty on all the appliances." he agreed and i signed some forms and that was that - a done deal. i quickly called up lisa and andrew to tell them we'd bought the place and were going to move in asap, and they were excited and wanted us to meet them in their apartment downstairs to have dinner together, once leon was back from work and we'd changed and everything. i have no idea where the kids were. i was still feeling pretty sad about having my crushy feelings left unrequited by this guy but decided to just put it out of my mind. i went to take a bath but leon came in at that moment. i told him i'd signed the papers and the apartment was now ours. he was happy and excited. i told him we were supposed to be at lisa and andrew's for dinner in a few minutes so he better change. he said he'd rather help me get changed. he started to lift my shirt over my head, when all of a sudden this woman burst into the apartment with her four kids. she was short and had dark, curly hair flying off her head like a halo. "what are you doing here?" i demanded, "this is our apartment, we just bought it!" she threw her head back and laughed while her children ran crazily all over the house making noise and mess. "you didn't buy this whole apartment," she said, still laughing, "you bought half of this apartment. i own the other half!" my stomach dropped about a thousand feet to the floor. i shook my head in disbelief. "no, no, you can't be serious. the agent never said anything about that." she kept laughing, "oh, they never do. you try selling half of an apartment. believe me, it's impossible. the only way it happens is by villainy." leon flew into a rage. "there is no way that six children and three adults can live in this space comfortably!" he shouted, "we'll never pay!" she just kept laughing and told us to take it up with the banks. all i could think of was how much i wanted to be back in my scuzzy little innercity townhouse complex. her children were all crammed into a toddler bed even though most of them were over the age of six. they looked afraid of me. i shut their bedroom door and thought of calling my crush and asking him to meet me somewhere else, because that was it for me. i was running away.

the pain is too clean to tell;
they say every dreamer dreams only of herself.
it's under the thunder
under the shackles of her eyes
the flame's too big to tell;
she overshot the wishing well.

swimming all day to keep warm
sometimes the field burrows into the worm
it's wide in the divide
widen the shackles of her eyes
the gaps too narrow to tell
her glad heart is so light it's unwell.

because of this you'll never know
how long or far or which way the breath blows.
it's in losing the light
in losing the ashes of your cigarette
the shackles aren't anything to fear
until the clanking is all you can hear.

sunday room

It is better to linger in a room reflected back to you
By mirrors draped in faded scarves, scented patchouli
And grey pre-dawn light fades fuschia walls to dusty roses.
As your breath falls on the swell of her breast
And your hand trickles through the river of soft tresses,
Her sighs casting spells of fearlessness.
It is better to linger in a room filled with morning,
In a Sunday room swollen with memory.
With a woman alive and in love,
It is better to linger.