December 22, 1989 or 1898

The crowned fire settles on the mountain. Ornaments of the future…ELLA is laying new weight for all our longings. Groups of elder women corralled in a room playing pretend for the sake of filling their time with something other than nothingness. Loneliness is the culprit for our need to pretend …young aerial being with thin soles on her feet, stumbles through these landings…alien …mundane…purely normal…fostering additives to personalities…lasting lonely though…store front gigantic in the distance…she looks at those illuminated crowns of fire…adverting the night clouds…where can her longing go from here, but into our pockets, down the drain after a shower…after a wipe, a scrape, a dent,, that young dancing girl without family, I am her and she is me…existing after all these things…but we all must go and so must she and so must I…where….forward walking backwards…crippled in the gaze of the saints and their laws…but she is breathing and in that breathing her breath finds air and in a finding there is a pursuit…getting back to the home …that really was only a home in moments…spinning into sleep she faces her mother…golden. ELLA why do I bleed from the INSIDE?