fiction

i don't have anything in me
that hasn't been put
there by a movie. (flesh and bones
and bloody noses.)

when i die they'll take my body
away on a dolly.

DOCTOR 1 TO DOCTOR 2:
"she's stuffed with scripts,
and all her organs run with ink."

'cause i'm a paper man with
all the wrong dyes, just a
paper man with two lost hands
and the kind of blank-page
panic that makes manics sing.

this girl is oh so ever clever,
pretty like a bookcover with no body -
an actress. and i'm the pages
that want a spine but got no glue -
the writer.

i love her fiction,
how i invent her over
and over and over again
to reflect and refract
my reality.

we live in these flickering frames of light,
and we have never been so alive.