note #205

Deep below
where the bones do grow
my heart beats
soft and slow

Up above
where once I loved
new lovers meet
in swift retreat

From prying eyes
that do espy
the short-lived amour
of fickle lies

Once I was one
under the sun
until my breast was pricked
in feigned fun.

note #204

yesterday was one year since you passed away. you were like a grandmother to me, kind, gentle, and loving. i will always remember the way you smiled, the sunlight in your dining room, christmas in your living room. you were always proud of my accomplishments, of watching what i became and knowing who i was. i will miss seeing you when i go home, no longer able to visit with you for even a short while. though no new memories can be made for us, the ones i have i will hold fast to, always remembering, always loving, always family of the heart.

note #203

the ticking of a clock sounds in the old case. such is the magic of old things - they remember what they once were, what their intended purpose was - even after they have long fallen from such uses. the brass and gear, cogs and springs, are long gone. the wood painted, stripped, and aged with oiling. someone replaced a tack foot with a bigger plastic one that sets it off kilter. the writing on the back lists random dates - "1941", "95" (or is that "75"?) - and faint penciled words that cannot be interpreted. the paper inside indicates it is much older, but gives no date itself. at some point it appears that someone stuck stickers to the glass in an attempt to make the clock look more appealing and less plain. whatever history it had, it has a new future now full of a new purpose, full of new memories. 

note #202

my dark lover

comes for me

in the space 

between

the land of dreams 

and the world awakened

where I am his

for the taking

lost

alone

ready for remaking

my dark lover

sets me free

along the currents

of the sea

where sunrise gilded

and twilight sated

i with him

alone

have waited

through longest days

and darkest nights

to set the world

with our love

alight. 

note #201

the picture evoked dialog in lieu of having a title.

see how big my dick is? i need these three adoring children just to carry it.
 
bring it!
 
whoa, whoa, whoa! i'm supposed to be ravishing you, you're not supposed to be secure in your sexuality.

(for reference)

note #200

who knows how long he wandered - time had no meaning in this strange place. he travelled over rocky shores, through bleached white woods where no birdsong rang out, along grey meadows and fields where the rustle of the grasses sounded like the shifting of the dead in their graves. nothing lived that he could see.

no dead appeared in crags or hollows, left to rot until their bones became yet another part of the barren landscape. at night no predators made noises in the distance, no insects buzzed or whined at any point of day. he was alone. 

after some time he came upon a vast, steely expanse of water. he fashioned a boat from the bone-white trees and set himself adrift. at times he paddled, at others he simply stared up at the slate sky, or at the waves around him, lost between the sea and sky. 

eventually he reached a shore - the same he had left or another, he could not tell. here it was the same. he was as alone and lost as before. 

how long he wandered no one knows - perhaps he wanders still. 

note #199

slowly she moved the sarcophagus out of the case and into position, levitating it gently so as not to jostle the contents. easing it into a laying position and settling it on the slab, she prepared herself. as she removed the lid, her assistant stepped up with a skein of thick blue thread, curved needle, and shears. he stood silently and awaited her.

looking into the bottom of the sarcophagus, she steeled herself and picked up pieces of the body within. matching up pieces and laying them out a couple at a time, she turned to her assistant and took the needle. measuring out a length of thread, she threaded the needle as he cut it. quickly and efficiently she set to work stitching the pieces back together.

once all of the pieces were matched and stitched back together, she rinsed her hands and the needle in a silver bowl set next to her by a guardian while she had worked. it cleared the bowl as the water clouded with blood, replacing it with fresh liquid. her assistant stepped away and brought back lengths of bandages to wrap the body with. the guardian produced towels to lave the body with and clean the gore away.

levitating the body and removing the sarcophagus, she wet a towel and began to bathe the body. after completing that task, she carefully wound the bandages around each stitched laceration.

finishing her task, she stepped back from the slab and let the body settle into place. the guardian placed a trencher of bread and salt at its base. her assistant placed a pitcher of honey mead beside the trencher. stepping back, they bowed their heads.

the silent vigil began.