In the heavy fashion magazines strewn here and there around the house the photos of objects and people mouth the word “money,” but you, assuming no one wants you anymore, mishear the message as “meaning.” Arousal follows.
I am empty of everything. I am empty of everything but the thin, frail ghosts in my room.
we are not ghosts/we were never here at all
… She’ll smile and put the tray down and I’ll say Francine I’ve had such an awful dream - it was only a dream she’ll say - and on the tray the blue cup and saucer and the silver teapot so I’d know for certain that it had started again my lovely life - like a five-finger exercise played very slowly on the piano like a garden with a high wall round it - and every now and again thinking I only dreamt it it never happened …