she's imaginary. Ephemeral....just distant in my dreams, veiled in mist as I cross the overcast dewey Irish country-side, just out of my reach as i wake up alone on my floor, bathed in the iridescent glow of my computer screen..as I lay wallowing in empty dorita and cheeto wrappers, a pair of stained boxer shorts, canyons carved by tears permanently erroded into my face, tears for the dream of a wife I am destined to live without, always alone, always wandering from point to point on Earth, in solitude, always wanting what I can never have.