Twaddles

Life is a bridge. Cross over it, but build no house on it.

A few years ago I was told to read a book,

At four in the morning,
as I release you from my mind
into the limbo of uncertainty and semi-existence,
I begin to feel the weight of reality closing its pages on my character.

You live in your world,
where I exist unspoken,
or intertwined in lies of your "friend Ed",
or hidden in nicknames like "John Doe".

You play your role of husband so well
to another woman I wish I was.
You play your role of father so well,
to children I wish I had birthed.
You play house so well,
in a bed I