Eat the full moon

Here's how it works: I'm outside looking inside through the windows of my apartment, maybe I'm on the fire escape or maybe this is just how I get inside. The windows are large like a screen for everything, and on the sofa in the shadows I think I see Jon Curley. Now I'm coming in through the window and I say Jon?

He looks over, and then I start telling him how yes I was angry when he fucked me over 12 years ago and left me vulnerable to our landlord’s aggression, but now I'm just curious to hear how he's doing. But also I realize I still can't see his face really, and there are a lot of people named Jon, right? I should've said Jon Curley, just to make sure, and then we’re eating, I've ordered vegan pizza, puffy in the box and I asked him if he wants some, yes, and when I look at him this time his whole face is covered in a beautiful green and black knit like he’s just been yarn bombed, and then the rest of him is a cape in every color and oh the knitting is so incredible like someone's grandmother transported into today and I say oh, you look amazing, and then when I look in the pizza box again I realize there's only one piece left, did I really eat that much?

 And I say: pizza just tastes like bread – because, sometimes in dreams you state the obvious like it's a revelation and then the revelation becomes obvious. But what am I doing eating pizza anyway when I'm allergic to wheat, although it doesn't seem to be affecting me right now, but I realize I didn't even ask what kind of oil they use, I'm going to be sick for sure but I open the box again, this time it's a box for just one slice but whereas my slices were thick and square, this one is triangular and extra-thin, and I say what's on this one? It looks like sausage, and Jon says don't eat that, comes over and then we’re naked, I'm holding on to his thigh from behind in a kind of embrace, so thick and strong and Jon takes a spoon and drops something into my mouth, a big round creamy ball of something like putting maybe, but I don't want to swallow until I know what it is so I'm trying to ask while also appreciating the texture and Jon says you can do it, you can eat the full moon, like he's cheering me on, we’re buddies in that way of straight masculine tradition and as the round ball of whatever it is start to go down my throat, I wake up.

 Thinking: Jon never had muscular thighs, so maybe that part was about Chris, the comfort of physicality that I'm missing. And I also realize that Jon was maybe the only straight guy who I've never really been friends with since coming into a queer identity. There was a sort of comfort in his interest in my politics and exploits, a camaraderie that I remember appreciating, an excitement with one another when we were in the room together that was a kind of bond until our landlord broke into our apartment and stole everything to try to get us to move out but that just made me decide we needed to stop paying rent and I don't know if I want to tell the whole story right now but eventually Jon took himself off the lease, and moved out, leaving me doubly vulnerable because I was never on the lease, and now I can appreciate how scary for Jon it might have been when the landlord was pounding on our door, demanding a deposit that Jon had agreed to. No, wait – I'm getting it wrong. That happened after Jon left. First, the landlord was just calling to say there was going to be trouble, then Jon went in and signed lease through a bulletproof glass window even though we'd agreed ahead of time that he wouldn't sign anything. But I said I wasn't in the mood to tell the whole story, yet. Probably this just sounds confusing right now. But what I appreciated from the dream was the comfort, made me wonder what was going on with Jon right now, or me, and my friendships with other men, males, faggots and not, mostly faggots but not enough, queens and where are they, and yes there was this batch of ecstasy for a while in New York, Boston, probably the whole East Coast, wherever, full moons they were called and you split it in half for one hit, the full moon for two hits, although this was something softer, chewier, something to swallow and embrace although maybe there's always a crash.