Do I measure up against your life?

I saw a squirrel climbing. That was it, the great line I came up with this morning on the way to work. Deep thoughts. And actually the squirrel wasn’t climbing at all, it was suspended, just hanging onto the bark like an ornament or moss. People around here remind me of food. Do they remind you of food where you are? A man – a pepperoni. A woman – a mushroom, another woman – a pierogi. Maybe I’m starving? Maybe they are full?
In my dream, I stabbed you with a rusty, serrated ruler. You wanted me to. We knew only one of us could survive this and you chose me. The wound didn’t bleed or weep. Your gut opened like an envelope. You were dark brown inside. And then I laid you down and made love to you, praying that you would survive. Praying there was another way both of us could exist in the same life.