She planned her
own suicide until the dream
began, in the dream the
destroyer is destroyed, a dream
worth living for ...
She had loved
him, expected little in return
and she hates the performances
she has had to give, enough she
thinks. Kathleen looks in the
mirror she agonizes over what
the experience has done to her,
she is drawn and stressed and it
shows. She makes a
conscience decision, she will
only apply a little blush and
lipstick, mascara and foundation
would only run, through the
tears during the encounter.
Kathleen bolstered her strength
and again tells herself,
that salvation would come from
this act, that she had
been and was an unwitting victim
of the devil, her sins falling
in love and gaining knowledge,
neither of the two a part of the
seven deadly ones, but they are
...
Most days I am
writing on the porch and looking
out at the sea. The water
is mottled emerald green over
the mosaic of sandbars, and aqua
as it deepens. The sky
goes on forever, clouds white
puffs always moving like smoke.
A constant breeze washes out the
sounds of life. The porch
is covered and when a sudden
storm whips up, as it often does
late afternoon, I stay at my
table smelling the rain and
watching it turn the water nappy
like fur rubbed the wrong way.
Sometimes it pours and the sun
shines at the same time.
Our four legged
creatures eat better than humans
here and it is a great comfort
to see the world treat its
creatures kindly, if only.
I cannot complain about my days.
It is the nights I dread...
When
my thoughts creep back into dark
crevices, I pitch myself into
another place. I have
refined my nocturnal habits to
an art.
When
I lay awake at night listening
to the whirling of life, I am
seized
by the visions of how it will
happen...
