Variation VI (Fairytale)

Time was once what was. Compatible were the thunder and the mare hooves.


Grazed grayed plateaued too cool to worry about it she wore underwear and a shirt barely there the thick soles protected their feet from the gravel the first time the end of the tale whoooHh the horse tail gone in the dark still a nicker.

Too old to call his mother he outlawed his self with myself.


Once was one and two, two were they and he,
he and she no more, more were beautiful.
The epic end of the era.
She points.  There are tremendous storms.

WhoooHh shhh She and he yes the same he and she and she releases her top over the railing of the longest pier well beyond the continental slope slowly submerged and carried away on the back of a deep sea slug.  WhoooHh shhh

We had decided not to talk about it anymore.  She went up the stairs and down the stairs again.  Another she stared at the wrinkles radiating from eyes not hers.  The other she her foot slid in and out of the shoe.
The embrace said it all.

The summers grew colder the making of gray the place of making.
The winter warmed her.

The little old man watched from another outdoor table.  You told me about a dog you had seen yesterday. In the interaction the kelpie had behaved better than its god master.  You the he was transfixed then and again now and always as although I saw none of it the old man and misfortune took the form of a gannet.
A fish fell directly in her lap from the mouth above.
The falls of spring.

Exhausted by the magic yet feeling well she went to rest with interiors behind walls and doors different doors on different dates and different parties no one knew.  Weeping day after day until day and day is not the word that should be written here at all the natural and unnatural loss of him and as is written, “For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day.  I felt myself a changed girl.  A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted.  Dim thought of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome possession of me.  If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet.  Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.”[1]

Like bubbles descending.

She prefers this most intimate constant companion.  She knows it like yesterday and as it is now at the beginning of all as it was when she was then.  She sits alone beneath the rock and draws with a stick in the sand the exact image of your home.

The after of before the laying of the land gale and squall and gray the before of after at one.  Still two and three.  Still a sunset also two of you and me riding into moonrises. Just beautiful after all and more every very before next.  All looking.

Sea creatures fly.

[1] From Sheridan Le Fanu’s novel Carmilla