Wallace Stevens meets TinyRomance
Complacencies of the terminal, late
Conversations scratched in a moonlit screen,
And the warming freedom of a lover's
Trust; fantasy mingled to dissipate
The turbid waters of reality.
It is a dream, calm in the water-lights,
Easy, but brooding, encroaching - the dark
Echo of real love from walls unreachable.
Elations of divinity again
She feels, and now these silent shadows
Conjour remembered passions as if true.
The screen is like wide water, without sound,
Stilled for the passing of two dreamers' feet
Over the lines, in an unquiet tryst,
Dominion of love and unfulfilment.