Fanmail

This is my beautiful black enticement: each friend is a spotlight into a slow unravelling spindle that I cannot reverse. If Hope was the last bird rentained, then perhaps Innocence was the first to escape. These timeless moments pull me in seven directions, as the contest between my divine self (tired) and my animal self (ravenous) drags me outside to howl (quite literally) at the moon (my final tightrope between the physical and the ambrosial). I am profoundly moved and deeply scathed. Who will endure my face as I kiss you and shove you to your death, eighteen stories? I cannot love, and I will die before my time. ____ you are nothing to me, and I need everything from you...this is an open letter, and I am sorry for the burden of expectation, you didn't ask for it. Damn you for everything, damn you for being so gorgeous that I lose my language in front of you. Thank God that I am not a Judge, I am a simple charon, collecting, collecting, listening to stories and pilfering coins. When you see a bridge in the fog, remember me, straddling a line I would have never drawn.

SW