She first appeared as a wicked aftermath,
A jazz-filled dream conjured through the
Dust of angles. I think. Glowing on the pale
Gray concrete, spotting me first from behind
A potted plant. Psychedelic colors shifting
In a tie-dyed medley. I blinked, regarding
The vision as a temporary haze induced
Through the blindness of the blaring music
Streaming in my head, mostly the trombones.
It’s always the trombones.
But when she emerged, the REALITY of my
Hallucination was unavoidable—not that I
Would wish to. Avoid it I mean. Green, blue,
Orange, yellow and violet, shifted electric in
Her soft and otherwise translucent fur, and
Her eyes. Soft, with a half-open gaze, a pale
Gray bright as headlights on a dark highway.
She crossed my path and lay at my feet, gently
Gazing at me. I resisted the urge to pet her. She
Was too sacred a sight to diminish with touch. I
Admit I was frightened my mortal impression
Would disappear her from my sight. So. I looked
Soft-eyed at her in return.
“Do you believe?” she asked me. My soft eyes
Wrinkled to bemused. “Do you believe?” she
Repeated. An epiphany of understanding
Overwhelmed me. “Yes,” I said, “I believe in
And we walked along that concrete sidewalk
Together to my downtown apartment. We
Live there. Together now. And we believe in
Each other. We are proof that the other
Exists. And suddenly, everything became