How can it be

that dreams more real
— of which I can be
certain — should fail
to produce that fire

in my heart, should fail

to ignite my soul
in that most storied
way?
In their stead
do those question marks
upon waking, whose contents
are so far

beyond

the usual
I wonder if they don’t
tell the very story
of Egoism’s great beginning,

stand:

unwarranted,
inexorable,
and essential.

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