Inward dialogue

It only takes two seconds before almost immediately the stale mold on the breaded, crusty life force scrapes away and wafts into a summer evening breeze... Mingling with the fire flies.


Dances, teases and seeks to find something else to cling to.

My fingers feel nimble and overstimulated, my senses are alive with rapid and blunt strobes of juxtaposition.

Zero chance it would ever be brushed as easily as it's predecessor was so recently from my shoulders.

Though parts of this fungal armor have been missed and overlooked where the tainted areas are still adhering... unreachable from six different angles.

Those tidbits of repugnant irritations linger... But I hope not for long.

I am a child, I need to play. So the two heels click, they tap softly on a glossy floor.

I can see my reflection smiling back through the snapshots of color and music... Welcoming me to the happy warm comfort of something I forgot six lonely weeks ago.

And who is this woman? Does she remember?
It's an energy you know. A pulse and passion that five stallions couldn't drive for water if thirsty and emaciated.

It was only three hours later I was concealed in the music, touched by the others that had stayed, making their cardbox homes under the tables and in the restrooms, all suits are represented. Strange but vague they smile and kiss; they grow in their spiritual adolescence.... To find the four things.

Or was it three? Yet and still...

What makes them whole? Is it the same as me? Perhaps a piece is missing still... But no, it couldn't be. I feel quite together, and yet I think it's the staunchy mold that I cannot scratch off, festering....

It must come off. It must.... I could taste much better if only I could be completely free of it... But it's a task and my brow is weary. What to do?

I've scrubbed, antiscepted... prepared and treated.

I should go down the staircase again, only to return when I've fully bound myself in everything that is purely electric... But then, would you go two? And if you did, I know there would be no return.

So now if you choose, take my hand and let's walk... I'll attempt the first crooked faulty step downwards.

Promise to plant your hands firmly on either shoulder when you push.