The silence slaps the sweet smile from my face.

Two dimples disappear and my eyes go wide and watery like reflecting pools.

It was expected, knowing the routine.

Like my cheekbones slipping softly against your inner thighs.

I return of my own volition.

I am into repetition. Can ya tell?

A cassette played and then rewound, to be as the stabilizing soundscape to enhance feeling and gift a smile,

but cared for and never unspooled.

After doing the same action, ten times,

the action becomes anew,

because we extend the potential through practice.

Carrying wood.


Not new, but still true. Reposted

Like an aged letter.

I am soft today.

Wide-eyed in hope and a hint of previous hurt.

An open vessel never being vacuous.

I embrace it,

whispering in a whimper: hey, let me in.

A Tea Party for your sobering Psychopomp.

Vamp for me, wild thing.

I will howl out the accompaniment to your movements.

The accompaniment as the autumnal ewe fades away,

but before the howling winds of this

fall remove all the leaves from your limbs

And leave You exposed to face the winter


Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

3 thoughts on “Unrooted.”

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