ACT 1: The Meeting. Your love is still fresh in my mind. I danced in the apartment rather than out and ran the last half block home. You could laugh if I didn’t know that you were doing it too. Soft souls are contagious late at night. Faces screenlit. The virus of remembering catches you unaware in the dark.”breathe into my hands, a cup, like a glass to drink from” There are no metal bowls to amplify anymore, and though I still attack strangers in my sleep, I can’t wait to hear you say my name again.
INTERLUDE: The girl arrives, stage left. She is painted up to look as a whore, but is really the mistress in disguise. Her fear leads her to disaster. *audience laughter* The anti-hero carries her off. Black.
ACT 2: The Supposition. My mother was over today. I told myself to jump right in. It’s only fire, after all. I’d forgotten that I couldn’t tell her before. I could show her nothing. It happened once that I moved out and she never noticed. No one else can tell that time. Only you and only I. History magnified through snatches of memory. Working together, we could tell who we were, but it’s not who I am. Every minute accounted for..We’re slipping into this so easily.
intermission – chocolate to be found in the lobby
ACT 3: The Failure. I can’t imagine what I was to you, how it is that we’re suddenly even. I want to ask questions, but uselessly so. Everything is unfolding, a painted roll of cloth spilling out onto this text floor. You said tonight, but I arrived too late.