the art i face

"I can't tell the difference
between life and art,"
she said, roughly.

"I can't believe I'm thinking
about imagining myself
crying out
on the 2nd floor
of our Good Room,"
I thought.

Conversion takes place.

"I tell the difference."

"How far do you have to go
to visualise the music?"

"It doesn't matter. This poem never happened."