Strange proceedings ensued
in dreamtime,
as I found myself
approaching this
disused center
of make-belief affection,
or should I say
romance.
That notwithstanding,
I rejected the rejector
and vectors suddenly
started pointing forward
as the feet-wielding doctor,
always destined to go bust,
went bust.
Now, what could deter
this mirror of the soul
from clearing?
- provided, of course,
that one can stand it.