i dream you moved to california, but you moved to prison, where you have to serve 3 months in solitary confinement (this is because i was thinking this new hole in my face will make it easier if i ever have to go into solitary confinement, and our faces have been opened up recently, oh but here i could say my face opened up to your face when i saw your face, and it might be true, but it's too late to say things that are true, i don't know why), and when i visit you in prison in california, you're not happy to see me at all, because you've been thinking all day and night in your cell, and thinking that this is hard to be in solitary confinement, and i'm sure it is, and i want to be sympathetic, but you don't believe me, so i tell you only a little of what i want to tell you, and the rest of the time you want to know why i'm so angry these days. i try to say that i'm not angry these days, but there are things that have been living on the surface lately that are getting larger, and they look like dogs that are all named space, because space is a large dog that gets larger and we are living on a dog that grows, and when it grows it pulls you in one direction and me in another, and we can't see each other any more. and because we don't know where we are, we blame each other instead of the dog. or i blame you. better to say that i blame you, because you don't seem to blame me, only miss me, but you can't see me because you're in solitary confinement. but the good news is that it's only a few more days until the 29th day has passed, and you get time away, but you won't take it, because you have to stay in california on your time away, because you decided you want to, even though you are miserable there (i like california though, but i don't like every state that begins with the letter c, and some of them i just don't want to live in, but i would visit). so this makes me filled with blame all over again, and this is my temper acting up, because you won't leave a place where you're unhappy, and i'm not so sure why i came to visit you in jail, because you're not happy there nor happy to see me, and i just don't understand the sentence at all, it makes no sense, because you are innocent, but then i think no one thinks you are guilty, except that you're stuck in solitary confinement, and this wakes me up, and i don't know if one hour is enough sleep, so i decide that i should go out and sit under the moon, but i can't see the moon, but recognize that this is the time of night that the clouds decide to look terribly erotic, but i'm not interested in the clouds, not tonight, i'm just not. so i sit and smoke and cry under the hidden light of the moon, and think to myself, this is the next day, and yesterday was three months, and everything is claustrophobic, because the cells are too small for these hidden desires, ones the clouds can't even reflect, and the time to get to know you felt so short, and feels shorter, because the walls to the cell have closed, and i'm left with my new wound and some memories of one of the most important things that ever happened to me, and someone who touched me where no one else could ever reach, and it will keep my face open much longer than i can bear, but i can bear, because it's made me tougher, and i know now that i'm willing to fight for something, and willing to lay down the sword when you tell me not to fight any more.