How to Dress Well – Words I Don’t Remember

If your dreams find you lost in an anxious mass of limbs, passing through midnight doors and reaching for sleek monoliths, tonight is a gift. In the night sky of our cities, the words you don’t remember gather like clouds, and they condense into dreams before morning. Halfway through the night you look up and there they are again: echoes from the high towers, all wounds explained, all knives bandaged, all empires arrested, all castles unbuilt, all hearts unbroken. You think of your bones as wood, something slow and put here a long time ago. You think of tonight, and the people whose love remains what they are even if their faces fall apart.