I dreamt once, that even though we're not related, and even though I'm a boy and you're a girl, I dreamt once that we were Siamese twins.
We spent most of our days brushing each other's hair and playing scrabble.
It was lovely.
And then one day a doctor told us he could change our lives forever.
Filled our heads with ideas like privacy.
So we said yes, because we considered ourselves adventurous types.
So they wheeled us into the operating room and put us under.
And then I had a dream within a dream.
I dreamt that I was running, swiftly and with a grace I have never known, ducking and rolling to avoid sharp branches.
I took lessons from Jesus Christ lizards and learned to step lightly on water.
Then ran across oceans, stopping to catch my breath on the backs of whales that came up for air.
I ran so fast and so far.
I felt like a lawman trying to capture the escaped convict of my own breath.
Later, I woke and discovered that we had been placed on opposite ends of the recovery room.
You were sitting up in your bed crying.
So I asked you, "what's wrong?" and you asked me, "why did you run away?" so I limped towards you, climbed inside your bed, ran my hand through your hair and told you, "
I didn't".
I was running to find you.
