When I am neck-deep in love
And talk of moon at the noon
She believes all that I have to say
She even believes that I will bring her the moonstone for sure
This is the Reality of that moment
And this is what I like the best about her

Each moment has it’s own Truth
Each has it’s own Reality
When I come out of that college garden
And look at myself from head to toe
And remember the letter to my father
Where I wrote, “My studies are going great”
The feeling of shame that comes at that moment
Is a different Reality altogether

In the evening when I get to some of my friends
And talk all the hell of the world
And that where from tomorrow’s beer will come
And those cigarettes
Then the words of my friends
That tomorrow will take care of itself
Is another kind of Reality

The sum of it all is
That we are sandwiched between weird expectations
And weirder are the ways that we are pulling through them
She very well knows that talk of the moon is ridiculous
And the moonstone is never going to come
I know that even in the next letter to father
My studies will be “going great”
Beer will come anyhow
Cigarettes will be there anyhow

Tomorrow will be there at it’s fixed time
We will still be talking of the moon in the garden
The party at friends place will go on the next evening
The froth of beer will be everywhere
The smoke will fill the room again

This is Reality which will never change


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