Follow the flowser stems to field
and water, and grove
where history tripped over itself
leaving the great in the folds
to peek, peeling away millenae
to smile at me, to call
"Come walk with us through history's annals,
Come play our game, daughter of man
For we long for memories of pity and flesh,
wrapped in cellophane like a heart on a sleeve"
Like the child swings on the sidewalk, an appendage to her parents
a digit at the terminus of their outstretched arms
So the twin knife hands of Brutas and Juad hold me
for he is one man, broken up
the broken betrayer
whose purpose is to take blame.
whose purpose is to see too much and act too little,
so choice is a corraled bull run, with time the piercing tines
searing the flesh that lingers and hinders.

the unrequited lover, the unconditional mother
they've set themselves in me
many women, come together
they've set themselves in me
decided my heeart is to ache as I assuage the aches of others'
one angel, broken up
the haunted helena
who gives and takes with equal hand
one bag of silver, one bloody knife
one father figure, dead on the floor
one choice brother, dead on the hill
one lovelorn fool, slowly sapped of her will
renewed by stormy oceans
just like the little heart ache house,
philosophy! what spiteful louse
should sink it's teeth into my chest and suck,
till an empty shell remainds
and i hear nothing but the rain.