Hope enters the room, she is smoking a cigarette, naked.
He seems to swivel their butt onto the divan.
Hope is cool, collected, just like any other day on the planet for him.
They look at her fingernails and glance back at me from the other end of the room.
I sit near the window. There is not much to do in this moment, but look at the tree outside, which exists in eternal winter, not a dot of green emerges.
Father is inside my head; he is quiet, almost silent, but I become aware of him through the parts of my body that twitch, as I try not to touch my face.
He carries words to me on a platter, something he would never have done and this is comical in its absurdity.
Panic swings on that tree, a naughty phantom, disembodied and begotten once again in the light that should be shining through the absent leaves on that dendrite.
It’s all in my head, this life now. For me, it begins to get easier, people keep contact, in a way that works for me. There is no boisterous loud sounding overbearing presence, only illuminated words, shifting across windows of delineated quadrants on this screen.
I can find peace now, a cosmonaut in my studio, traveling through galaxies, above and beyond what one might ever conceive.
It’s quiet, I hear the birds outside in the mornings, and the neighbours arguing once they have filled their bellies with enough libations to lose the tether they hold, a balloon that flies away- a belligerent and brief passing of their dark clouds in my sky.
My eyes, cerulean for a moment, as the sun sparks a bit, a flash as my/their blueness hastens to infringe on the dark pool of the aperture, flooding it- a circular cascade into an infinitely small point of convergence.
They enter from all directions, water glistening, sparks of genius, their resolve is the least of their worries. I keep my silence close at hand in case of emergency: break.
I watch, I collect, I preserve and imagine. I am balance on an invisible tide.
I merge with her/him/they, we stand up and relax again into words, my/our/his/her feet kick up and strike a pose on the
We are sexy and scintiallating, an alluring vision of the future,