a robust

golden

sun

and a pale moon,

both very friendly

and with enormous smiles

shook hands

right above her

painted on

the low ceiling

She watched them

from her bed,

lying on her back,

thinking that

they’ve always been there

and she glanced on

them since early childhood

when she first

gained awareness in this

house

And ever since

then she lived with

the idea

that nothing was real

The painted sun

and moon

shaking hands were not

the real sun and moon

They were an imaginary

replica made after

imaginary entities

Nothing in existence

was real

besides her

The whole of existence

is but one single

being hallucinating,

dreaming

It’s only her

Her alone

And she’s lying on this

unreal bed

and staring at

an unreal ceiling

featuring two unreal

characters

while

very soon the unreal door

will open wide

and a totally, absolutely,