I want to fight you in the morning light but my weapons are disappearing and now you are so surreal it’s barely you. And my pain is being eclipsed by the reality of earth’s orbit. And if only I could go back a few long dark minutes that lasted for hours I’d find you again at my knife point, or would it still be you? Or would you have shape shifted into another lover or become a beast with the backs of all my lovers? So frightened to admit I almost killed you, so dissatisfied that I never got to see what I would have done after plunging into your heart and gaining a victory that only seems to matter in my mind. Because in the light of the morning sun my greatest act is trivialised and my eyes cannot testify to the man I witnessed writhing beneath me. Reality was fractured in the crossover and now an event is just a feeling.