Excommunicating Dream

It has become necessary to switch our mode of tractation
though should I whether or not be speaking for us
is not an issue, but also as necessary as it is becoming one
as soon as I get on my knees and clutch my breast
](of course) The One in the Middle]

clutch: with two open hands: pressing
effortlessly, because, in order to properly represent

us, I have to be so careful with us

as we are the lovers of the in betweens.

and for we, for we ourselves and, for eachothers'
not dreams are, but vision is
tantamount - (one of us has said)
dreams are dreams - to forget
naming them (dream, dreams, dreaming) - we must
(how ominous) do something else as is
more penetratingly correct, like
as in, here to fore, try to give a name to this.

(Looking back) How sorry I was I could not fool dreams
into leaking an image of me so much I fell
on my knees and did not
beg but banished myself
from showing my green capitulation.

How foolish that I so and as such
betrayed my own disappointment
and betrayed my good sense for going through

and stopping at nothing.

For there are names for this other
than the names I have been named for naming
that I don't know, but given one
glacier of a chance, I might
have collected ice
cycles
or bicycles, because they are related
to fish or boats, in a (like now)
somewhat disappointing way (for some)
instead of (please no, not again) dreams.

Cut it out is appropriate.
Stop doing that is also right but not as fun
as brutal sarcasm, with its crisp purplish
under hand gesturing to the liver.

The underworldly appreciate such subversive aching.
Why we keep coming like dutiful reporters
at eachother kissing ass around the bush

like brave protectors of the bush. (no, it's not a dream
it's like, like. Liking it. [what's another word for dream?]

Careening? Keening? Cleaning?
Ahh, I see your point.
That's better.