little girl, you cannot say or guess, for you know only that the world on its rusty axis turns for no one, and certainly not for you.

you see the things you want pass you by and brush your fingertips

and even though you swore and wept to heaven, saying you wouldn't fall for it again
that you would be strong, and proud, and you would grow
(that you wouldn't want it anymore)

a single glimpse, unexpected, unwanted, (but secretly wished for during long, dry days; the little deaths of everyday), makes your breath abandon you like punch to the gut

and a yearning so overwhelming subsumes you, and lays all your small betrayals bare

little girl, your knees grew weak and you smiled while a fever beat in your head like a drum inside.

(truly, when the gods want to punish you they answer your prayers)

your dreams coughed up the dust you'd placed over them.

beloved, as far from me as ever. your eyes are dark and quick and i cannot, cannot leave. desire is not love, but sometimes dances tango with it still

sometimes in the night i look away
i speak my love to the shadows
i sift the colander of memory

o lord, thou pluckest me out

(an epilogue, of sorts. conditions of complete reality )