Boogarins - As Plantas Que Curam - Luciferandis
[ virescent ]
The flowers on the table are missing one stem—the glasses are missing one of the little plastic pieces that are attached to the edge of the inside part of the lens that help provide comfort in the way that they move in order to best fit the bridge of the nose—we know each other differently now—dashes and the differences—learning the differences, learning we are different—something about shoelaces and finish lines that are close by—clarifying the confusion, or putting the “it” on the table, or being on the same page or being in the same book or being on the same bookshelf or being in the same bookstore, eventually “it” just isn’t working—sippable, kissable, huggable, ignorable, understandable, reasonable, livable, personable, tangible, flexible, breathable, eatable, smellable, likable—the schwa—pronounceable, fixable, build-able, possible possibilities, able abilities, able, willingness and hard work, working hard—home—his eyes are slowly losing their color, or you could say that they are getting a new color, or changing color, he just stares, and when he was sleeping the other day, just a little after three , he opened his eyes. he wasn’t completely awake or even conscious that he had his eyes opened. I stared back and thought as loudly as I could. We stared and breathed. the silver stroke around his iris was a bright grayish blue and the surface of his eyes are becoming more iridescent. We stared. He dreamt, I thought. Later when he woke to eat, or try to eat, as he begged to be covered, and his legs restlessly shifted from fetal to fully extended, I asked him what it was that he dreamt about, he said “pos usted.” I wondered what we were doing in his dream. the last time I dreamt about her, his wife, she thanked me and walked away slowly into the forest. She only asked that we not let her die of thirst. so to the very last moment water was gently placed on the surface of her lips. she would slowly reach with her tongue and lick the already evaporating waters that lightly glazed her lips, over and over until she reached no more. I wasn’t there for the last lick, and I’m okay with that, i think. if i don’t make it back in time this time around I’ll be okay with that too, because I got to be in his dream.—only my thumbs sparkle, reminding me of how long it has been since I have seen her—units of measurement.