--- L E T I T I A   T R E N T

	--With Lines from Kafka's Diaries

In my dream I asked the dancer Eduardova to dance with me just one more
time. She giggled into her enormous cuffs and led my fingers to her lap's
cool shadow.  She hummed the anthem between her teeth and smiled into her
flowers' open faces. Her every gesture was calculated to crack my joints,
unlace my knuckled fingers. So I spilled my honey into her soft palms just
like conversation. She licked her fingertips and her poodle yelped with
approval. The manner in which she listened made it clear. At this moment my
wrists began to itch. I realized she's cruel and bodiless. She would never
dance again. Her distant laugh discomforted.  And then disappeared. That
sound. Out.