perfect

“we have to give language to things; we have to make stories”

we need to make a rap sheet of all the shit that went down;

the stories; of horror, devastation, frustration, zeal and despair —

carving and carving,

like a hanging leg of skinned lamb (blood muscle red,

there’s an open wound that I need scabbed

I need Him

him

him

and You and

all of this; I need all of this to work

work and coalesce; cohere and adhere and stick together

in general

but also

kind of really work with flying magical sparks;

i don’t call it a fairytale of course, because that is what little girls do

but he does — he says there are sparks colours rainbows glitter

that

fairytales, are

stories of magic, are

its real and here and happening

in it and within; within and without, I’m watching

this is happening and I’m working, also passing

not passive; but real and here and doing

and when we’re done, I guess it will be magic, and

no one can say, but the idea is a pièce de résistance

of a perfection, because it wont be perfect but clear

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