Stick

It was glue stuck between two things I didn't mean to be together.

When I said you, I meant I.  When you said you, you meant yourself.

So the hands all separate and alone couldn't clap.  The fingers clumsily

couldn't snap.  And the tongue in the mouth couldn't round out the sound.

I love you, we repeated just like they do.  On the LCD screens and at the center

of a 3D sound system, sitting obediently under the hanging curtains parted,

entering the myth of reality departed, every fantasy facsimile projected from just another

reel.