[“When lights go out / May two real people breathe in a real room.” – Sylvia Plath]
Sometimes I imagine she’s someone else. That can be exciting. Sometimes I imagine that she’s imagining that I’m someone else, too. And perhaps she’s imagining that I’m imagining that she’s…
The problem is, I can’t decide which someone else she ought to be. I do try to imagine I’m having sex with real people, not someone I invented in my head. That isn’t simple; making people up is a lot easier than knowing them as they are.
And perhaps the people I imagine are imagining me imagining them; they’re inventing me in their own heads. That could be exciting, I imagine.
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Buy it at amazon.com/author/terencekuch: For Anacreon, 30 poems of love and life from the ancient Greek poet.
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