solicitude to solitude (i)

And, though things were terrifically strange, she felt oddly disinclined to speak.

But, she realized that she might be interested in her thoughts on now, a few months from now.

And, she enjoys tapping out characters as much as an enthusiastic pianist paws out notes from hammer and strings.

And, all the talkers were just saying the same things.

Then, she felt narcissistic for thinking about enjoying remembering her previous thoughts.

So, she shakes her head and scribbles.

So, twist and howl. Nothing else to do.

And, she feels boorishly derivative yet, impeccably derived.

So, she began each preceding sentence with inanities such as

And; but; then; so

So(?)

And, she feels restless and pent up despite already being a bit of a metaphysically hermetic, solitary creature.

But, the public solicitude to solitude made her space feel imposed not chosen.

And, while the difference was arguæbly negligible, she found it curious how much the distinction perturbs her.

“Insert sentence g here?” Æ, speaking to myself, prompts.

“Okay, here goes,” I reply to Æ.

intermittent fasting

“You don’t have to know it all around me,” she said, stroking his head.

“Are you saying I’m a know-it-all?!”

“No; but, you just called yourself that.”

~

It became dark, then light, then cloudy, before darkening again. And the spool of film plays in rolling waves of punctuated equilibrium to the RPM of the spinning vinyl disk. Obelisk well balanced and too big.

Margot likes working in the theater, on her feet. Laughter for poor Albinus.

Are you erudite, obscure, or just confounding?

Can’t you tell?

No, and it seeps into my dreams, pet.

I find your pettiness precious.

You could eat.

So could you.

Dueling stomach growls proving there is something to be said for intermittent fasting.

Empty and floating.

the bench, aside.

The Mæstro sat on the bench, aside the novice.

“We shall make a song. I will play middle C. Quarter notes. Choose any key and add a note.”

The neophyte pawed at G in the next octave up.

“Now add another.”

The beginner stutters in anticipation of selecting the proper note.

“Savor mystery momentarily, but do not consider. Do.”

A hammer strikes a string. An E resonates.

Now, scaling C in three octaves, the Mæstro’s eyes close.

not only above, but also below.

Rip the mussels from their shells while I husk corn and shell peas.

A garlic clove, crushed with a knife’s handle, teases out its aroma.

The inoculation of a spinning dervish

who seeks the antipodal position of the divine.

Diabolical twirling in this ongoing energetic exchange between universe and organism.

En pointe is En garde.

The evokation of my exhalation diffuses and diffracts into atmosphere.

The invokation of my inhalation converges energy from

not only above, but also below.

The cyclone of the Void rampages through my celiac plexus.

The center of the eye of the storm is so motionless.

It crystallizes, dynamicizes, galvanizes,

before radiating into fibers of the nerves strewn along my

coronal plane;

when, just in the nick of time,

the cordon of my spine sucks

the ambient and I find

a respite in equilibrium.

The word Apologetics springs to mind.

A tangent unfurling

Lo siento

I feel it; but, I am not sorry

Parçigal wants attention from Æ

~The lunar new year approaches. We could celebrate at the temple.

⊙No, let’s celebrate under the night sky, just us.

~Lay down in my bed, please. Warm the sheets.

⊙The boy in ridiculously baggy pants, with straps hanging, at the grocery store, had BDSM tattooed on his fingers, but he couldn’t define the difference between a sadist and a masochist.

~Why do you care?

⊙Because, he looked like he was full of shit and needed to know it.

~We all are, dear. Most of us feed our guts everyday.

⊙Well, he should develop a kombucha habit.

~You should read a book.

⊙Listen to me read aloud?

~Why do you ask when you could just read aloud? You are hard to ignore.

⊙Because, it pleases me when you say it back to me. Also, consent is important.

~Dear lord, please read aloud. If you’re gonna yammer at me either way, then other people’s words become you better than your own, right now.

⊙Very good. Pluck a book, any book. I’ve got it nice and warm under the sheets, here.

Parsiçal giggles to Æ

“You have told me nothing that Æ do not already know,” Æ tells me, sternly.

I grin, with closed lips, then

I say, “Oh howl. Is that what we were doing? Let me have another go at it.”

I do panto like I am a junkyard bitch barking and straining her neck against an invisible chain tethered to an imaginary spike.

I smile broadly, with both decks of teeth bared.

I suddenly spit out, “I once lit a candle that burned for two days straight despite there being not enough wax left.”

“Ostensibly,” he shrugs.

I cock my head sideways like a curious animal.

“Be quiet. When you try so hard, you always get in your own way,” Æ mutters.

“Oh howl. I thought that was the point of what we were doing. To let me stumble against the obstacle of myself,” I giggle snort, a bit bratty.

“Are you as confident as you seem,” Æ asks, seriously.

I howl in laughter.

“I did not know I appeared confident, Æ. I’m confident that life will render me unconfident often. If I am properly challenging myself.”

“How do you think you appear?” Æ asks me.

I reply, “Great question. I’m confident that I have no idea how I seem. Because, I am inside me, and cannot ever perceive myself. But, I’m the one that gets to experience myself as I am, regardless of how I appear. It used to be ‘I think therefore I am.”

“But, now?” Æ obliges me.

“Now, it’s, I’m seen therefore I am. It’s a real narcissistic shift.”

“So, then, what do you know?” Æ asks.

“All I know is that everytime I ‘think,’ I do not know.”

“And, when you don’t think?”

“I know I am.”

“How are you then?”

“I’m super, thanks for asking,” I giggle snort.

Æ rolls both eyes.

I smirk.

“Hey! I just made up this joke for you, Æ! Do you know it?”

“Tell me.”

“What’s the difference between feral, spitting of saliva and enunciated speaking?”

“…..”

“An audience!”

Æ smiles coyly. “Æ do like it when you spit your seemingly inane nonsense into the hole between my lips.”

My eyes go hard.

Held(,) dear.

Rip me from the spotlight.

The show is ended.

The backstage scene now begins.

My knees and legs unable to support my dizzy delirium.

Help steady my body.

The depths below begin churning as strange sediments begin to arise.

Let me.

I want to mine this precious mineral vein,

to see what visions will come.

Hold me(,) dear in my spelunking.

I feel weightless.

Perhaps, if you wrap yourself around me, we may float together.

{in the subterranean ether}

I fly off this edged state easily into deep space.

Tether and balance me.

I always seem to land safely

because I can exercise control.

Let me exorcise a lack of control and cushion me when I fall.

I will coo into your ear and call forth trembling, hopeful, goosebumps from your salacious, salted flesh.