"zenia"

"yusef"

x

"willomena"

"viovox"

"ursula"

"telemach"

"samovar"

"rasten"

"qaliette"

"postulio"

"oman"

"nance"

"maurice"

"linaya"

"kate"

"jorjee"

"ignets"

"helane"

"gahdfree"

"filamina"

"everit"

"dineese"

"carvil"

"bienetta"

if only they had let you be.
if only they hadn't squished you into every peg hole they could find.
i'm not amazed that you survive, but did it so well.
of the kind you want to try and protect, easy prey for the wanting eye
and yet you rose above it so well
the ripples of your wake echoing still in the hesitant stares behind you
as you go about your way
tried but not mastered
by anyone
wild as you should have been let to be
you're too good to have to dwell in this wretched mess
no matter how well you steer by lightless skies and missed morning
the best in you is what makes me sorry
there may be no place ready for you
yet

"anabel"

Good lord, sometimes i wanna ask, "have we met?"
As if suddenly i'm some remedial stranger she'd unknowingly let into her confidence instead of the war buddy bond that keeps her in my life at all.
instead of the fact that i'm pretty sure i know more about her than almost any body else, almost the first person she ever "knew" outside her family at the ripe old age of sixteen.
'nabel, dear, we all know-- i'm just the only one who bothers to not try to not think about it, despite that particular angle's lack of fashion here.
the fear, the self placement
the rise and fall of your ego
and how tenuously placed it can be depending on that week's choice of the opposition
being drunk is no longer a challenge
find one that won't decide between dirt and sainthood for you
because it's less and less worth bothering to know
when i could check back in another decade and still get the same answers.
is the only real difference going to be in your steady screw?
no, at least you're not like cela
who's only apparent goal was to claim a penis and fence off all rights with concrete and venom
your excuses must be ringing hollow to your own ears by now.
why is it that that frank honesty is almost always some kind of accidental
and most states of update are in fact what you hope to but haven't done yet?
These falsehoods can't be for me
unless we really haven't met
the count down has started, bella
space must now be portioned and no longer available for lease
i wonder what the review board will say

My lack of kindness is harsh, i know
but you can't expect to play piglet all the time
and acting helpless doesn't help, it just looks kind of sad and pathetic.
yes, i am being harsh. harsh and blunt. the way you claim to understand and want the world to be, except you can't take it without feeling at risk, using only the filter of your egoist's eye
take it apart and clean your lenses
you, who wondered if my mother's foibles were hereditary, are becoming this odd version of your uptight mom.
there has to be a ledge somewhere between out of control and anal.
there must be.

tired

"You don't get it, do you?
Have all the romantic fantasies you want. I'm happy for you to have them.
Except your fantasies take place in my past and, sorry, I lived through it.
None of it is as simple and clean as your want it to be.
Nothing ever will be
unless you are blessed or very very carefully ignorant."

"Maybe this as old as i get this time around and i get to go now."

years before:

"Monai, you have to stop. Stop talking theory like it's fact. Some talking about what will happen like it has happened. Give them what they want so we can get out out of here."

skirting the colonies

The growing darkness of the woods said nothing in the evening of the day after.

A hush had fallen and stayed, lying bonelessly on the edges of Apetown.

The council meetings had not went well and the people were as divided as ever.

As Monai watched the last glow of sun die in the sky, the cheapness of the liquor mattered less, the muted peace settled in: the break of the wave, the relief in the receding tide.

Most everyone left awake was somehow unsober or desperately trying to be. Mon had saved last summer's brandy just for the occassion, and bags of pipeweed.
In just a robe in the cooling evening, the breeze licked her calves as she sipped the dark bottle. The trees rustled like rain.

outside apetown

Whether it was the brightness of the moon or the twist of my gut or the insistent worry niggling at the back of my resting head, I saw the dim haze of day rise in the wet to reveal the remains of fall. Ungreened leaves were tattered in embarassing patches. Naked sticks sprawled out, untidy and somehow grayed out, the world was messy and this was somehow fitting: it would be a tedious day that would have to wait too long before it could be put to rest.

Trouble was lumbering in, thick through the shoulders, full but firm in the gut. Knuckles would be dragging if they weren't wrapped around tools.

Best to watch and wait for now.