by C.L. Wilson

The universe and everything in it,
said the headline--
you, me, the tree outside my door,
the door itself, it all might be just a hologram,
matter itself just an image cast in blurry 3-D
from the event horizon's knife-edge.
Does that makes us less real
than we were before?
You were almost right
when you said I couldn't have loved you.
I loved a projection,
moving across my experience
of the world, that you
sometimes nearly were.