TPak16

Within the womb of wonderland, There lay a little star. Its light was dim, Near dark and dead, So none could see it shine. And as this starling sailed Through space and time and life, She sought to be seen and heard; But whatever light once lay there Was snuffed and stored away. She tried a thousand guises on As she hid inside her shadows; She mimed a million masks she'd seen, And forced them on her face. But not a single illusion Had the light to illumine The shroud of fog surrounding. In unnatural darkness, all alone, The star shriveled down in despair. Her cloudy cloak was stormy smoke, As she shrank into stillness, In the fog of her fe

Before that day, Sunday mornings had never occurred to me. I must have slept through their every summons: I never knew the time sensitive ritual of finding matching socks, forcing “nice” shoes over misshapen toes, the silent pact we would share with the warm cushions of the divan waiting for Mother to ready us,  memories that settle in the guts like a madstone, which I could then pull out of my old cadaver to save myself in the next life. There were a few moments. Like that time, in the garage, basking in Father’s sunrise sorcery as he fired his magic timing light into the fluttering lungs of an engine, or when he let

Of all the possibilities, All the possibilities of The possibilities of all Possibilities of all "The."