Last

(Wakes up all alone one morning, maybe at a beach house in the summer.)

I dreamed I was a spear hunter in a forest of oaks. A fawn, separated from its doe, was shaking in the brush. It was too scared to run.

I cut, spilling out its insides, and then it looked past, behind me, as if for the moment something was more pressing. I followed its gaze and turned around.

I was the deer, and I was me. What was it that we saw together? What remains in all these living and dying forms? But I saw nothing but colors.

Then, I saw myself in a mirror, putting on a black tie. Was I getting ready for something important? Was it a funeral? Wedding? A birthday face?