Most of the time I find myself retracing my tracks
recalling dream morsels
like the time I watched two orange lizards dancing
on two legs
and one was fat and bright and full of advice
and the other was sickly and dull and lacking oxygen.

I tried to feed these lizards,
knowing nothing of their dietary needs
tossed them grasshoppers and grapes
and they danced some more
on two legs.

The air was filled was smells
of ripening apricots, peaches, and bananas
and noises sounding much like hisses.
A sonorous symphony of hisses
like two old lovers
fighting for the scent of my breath, my lizardy touch
filling me with their fruited attentions
and reminding the ego of its girth
on both legs.