Here.
Heel.
We are running in circles.
Cyclical spires of turrets leading to screaming minarets.
All is as it has been before.
And, I hear your silent complaint that I never wear my hair naturally curly anymore.
Give me a reason.
Who summoned whom from the pneumatic ether and how many times?
Who and Whom are a real, diabolical pair.
Alain de Botton hissing out a status of anxiety.
Dialogueing with the ecological shaman of
David Abram casting natural spells of the sensuous.
Put your faith in me.
I will make you watch me return it and put it back into yourself while I ask you to consider the chartreuse evening.
Prowling the catacombs of the catatonic.
Buffering neophytic initiants while irritants and retinal scratches
itch;
because sometimes I say silly things when I’m embarrassed.
Hand sigils and face touching.
The difference between indoctrinated and initiated? I call to Æ like a game show host.
The difference between you getting it and blowing it versus you getting it and not blowing it: he grins, blowing it for both of us.
And what if what I call discipline is just self-indulgence?
You bitch.
Don’t fret. I love you madly, too.
It is true. I don’t know you, yet Æ thinks I do.
You’re interesting: he says.
I reply: you listen or hear better than most.
Ammend-able.
Amen-able.
Ami-able.
Ambivalent.
What’s the difference between the interval and the rest.
Your silence.
Duress and stress?
They were meant to know of how I see your eyes, dear.
Depleted and explicative.
WrittenCasey 