“I’m going to start inquiring about your own personal agenda, whether your positions and your scoffing tone might not be viewed as little more than cover in lieu of a defense of the indefensible. In truth, I don’t presume much worse than that you hold a good many of your opinions and views primarily, consciously…
aridness constrained
water in a dry land
the sky is burning
The intersections of our lives. Some lives intersect along whole surfaces. They blend together in seamless arcs and pleasing forms. Point and counterpoint in rhythm with each other, not conjoined, but blended, a symmetry, a balance achieved, comfort. Some lives merge together, run hand in hand with each other. They merge and enhance becoming larger…
The ivy crept over the house, a green plague, relentless. The house, that human construct lay beneath, consumed. Some looking would call it quaint, ivy covered halls, hallowed halls. I called it death, a slow strangulation, a suffocation within the leafy legion. Its progression was incremental, measured in inches, brick by brick, one crumbled mortar…
the ills of marriage, but none of the fruit
the mundane, the insipid, the better left unsaid
tenderness, intimacy, joy
threadbare in the tedium of being
better to lie fallow
to await another season
She is gone, the one you wanted, that effervescent blythe spirit. I buried her, walled her off, it is the same. I built the wall myself, mixed the mortar, carefully laid the brick. Silence. I cursed you both as the mortar dried. The housewife remains.
Her own dreams were tame. She had domesticated them long ago and eventually she noticed that they were just gone, dried husks of themselves that she must have swept out unnoticing one day.
Perfumed in moonlight and rain she approached. “Come, waltz with me” she whispered and her breath trailed like warm silk across my skin.
Data has no right to “integrity” independent of our human interest, however individually or collectively we may care to negotiate that.