As clouds passed over the lingering sunset at last fell over the trees over the city and, over my eyes my imagination howling, and kaleidoscopic fearful and divinely alive at once and still separately brimming. An elderly man is wise in the mirror through his eyes inside me’s patiently waiting for this child’s mask melts away into the crevices of a wrinkled poets hyper inner eye. Publically, William edges the length of the bar table, receiving from many the stink eye; I rub my groggy and watching William behave a fool, pick my drink from the cedar flesh table arrested by a physical beauty, checking my fly for game breakers. Where my memories are for this evening, have I been sleeping then?
-- Pleasant dreams? William asks.
-- Playful William, from whenst hath I slept?
-- Oh boy, when you shuffled on back home, since then your tracks in the snow are gone.
-- Faded?
-- Nay, dissolved. ‘Tis Spring, my chillin’ chap.
-- Edgar, it’s true?
-- Yes, my love. Now don’t worry your little eyes are like geometry.
-- Am I sedate?
-- Yis, little brother. William says.
I am keenly sedate as since I’ve long been altogether unconscious, when now even a sedation is lifely. The bar drink resisting my poor hand’s weak inwardly purposeless resists my strength to move it, thinking I am parched. William’s nails jog in a hurry for opening restaurant peppermint candy. I’ll the poisson saumon.
-- Can I take yours?
-- Yes,
-- To drink?
-- What has happened, William?
-- Dear boy, what will you be having?
-- A trueful one to His then.
