POETRY requires a mature audience ENTER only if you are 18+
In the dream you said, "I love
this time of day—it's called the cholera."
I said I thought the cholera was a disease.
You said, "It is a disease but it's also
a time of day." There was no dictionary
in the dream, and we were sitting outside
at a café or a hospital. You asked if I'd read
Love in the Time of Cholera, and I said
I started it once, but never got past the first
50 pages. And you said, "That explains it."
I wondered if you meant the book explains
the time of day you love and why it's called
the cholera; or if you meant something else,
something about me and the way I am, namely,
one who can't get past the first 50 pages
of a book you love. Which would mean
something else entirely. And then I said
"I think cholera is one of those words that,
if divorced from its meaning, would make a beautiful
name for a girl. Like Treblinka." You gave me
a pained look in the dream then, and I wondered
if it meant you didn't agree with me or if it meant
what you were eating didn't agree with you.
Either way, it was plain to see you were suffering.
POETRYREPAIRS 11.10: 111