xxci

“i’m leaving” he said, and sure enough, he did. he was gone before i could even realize that he had laid the pen down he had torn the page up he had been

lone(-ly)

he was just lonely.

and all of this time the string of curses out through my mouth (invested too much) (wanted too much) (cared too much) accusations

(of the sort a sleeping princess would grumble under her glass enclosure restless for a breath to say them restless not for what might be a fairytale wedding a happy ever after, but a life not beginning with once upon a time for she, meditating for thousands of seasons, desired only to get out of this mess (and) to begin again without a trace of the extraordinary)

you, my friend, unaware of course of this rage, enter, and your fingers deftly weed the thoughts of my mind and (i love you but i run) (i love you but i run) in the course of the (mun)da(ne)y
you you
you

allora, but it was solitude—tu étais seul. and i, too busy closing my eyes and screaming at this world, preoccupied with this glass enclosure and the injustice of it all, ran before i knew

before

i

knew.

perhaps, she reconsiders, i did not do what i was meant to do—i missed the call and the thisthis that makes it all possible

i am sorry for this and for other