BLUR

There she was,
bright red in a strobe-cluster of
violent shades of rainbow.

I lost my partner down the rabbit hole
in a pool of whiskey and his own vomit.
and so she was the perfect antidote.
Aphrodiasiac.
Lover.

Medicated to the teeth,
we danced the night away.
Or so it seemed.
I stepped out into the abyss
to briefly escape the music
When I returned you had been summoned up
Like a phantom or something like it.

He presently lies on my couch,
the reaper massaging his neck,
waiting for the choice to wake up
or to dream forever.

Meanwhile my bed is empty.
And then my mind drifts back to that dance,
that ritual we plunged into like all the other animals,
Shall I dream forever or shall we awaken together?