Portrait 3

My own boy,

You have now taken possession of my sleep.

In dreams, I enter you, you enter me: the pleasure is intense; the pain is excruciating. Then I kiss you. Still, I do not want your kiss.

I need to know why I love you; how this love came about and how it has symbolically flourished.

Unquestionably, love for me is an escape from reality. Which is why I have needed you as the object of my affections. Which is why I have convinced myself that you would have been attainable if you had not been forbidden.

No. That is not it at all. That is not what I meant at all.

Shall I see you tomorrow? Shall I know you?

Iris