I dreamt they took me to my rooms, where I had said I wanted to go. There was a candle burning on a low table in one of the plastered cells. I had to pinch my auburn beard together with my fingers to assure myself that my hand was still there. Still I did not regret for one second sticking my left hand into that other flame in exchange for equal time with my cousin Kee. Her parents wrote to me “Your persistence is disgusting,” and I held their letter with seared fingertips, but that was the worst of it. 
     Later I met Gauguin and travelled with him. But I felt he was about to abandon me. We quarreled fiercely about painting sunflowers. I had to sacrifice my own left ear to a razor blade for the cause – but only the lower lobe. It was not bad because the prostitute Rachel agreed to keep the object carefully for me until my return.
     Because I was sane enough to commit myself, and because I had only abjured the sinister left side of myself, I was allowed two rooms. One for myself and one for my studio. The studio cell had barred windows which, at my leisure, I may look out. A crescent moon hung over Saint-Rémy like something missing. But there was a solid tree in the foreground that refused to budge, though the wind howled clouds around, and those clouds pushed stars out of the way. I was happy, happy, happy to be here. To see this.
     I was content to sit and stare all night, but at some point the candle melted out. When I awoke I looked around wildly for a moment, trying to decide where I was. I believe they must have moved me to the adjoining cell. The morning was cloudy, filtering an opaque light through the bars. I felt with panicked assurance that I would never be able to paint what I had seen.
      “It’s enough now, Theo.” Dr. Peyron said, gripping my shaking shoulders steady, “Let go of this Vincent character. Let go of him. He isn’t real.”
     He held my hands in supplication so I could see the hills and valleys of my own whole fingerprints.

I want to network in your bed,
the sheets wrapped around our
naked college-educated bodies;
fantasizing about signing bonuses,
salary negotiations, and health benefits.