the only calliope i ever really wanted has already decided she's through with me without giving me a chance to speak. - and she's polyhymnia in the comedy of hell, raising voice in praise of anything she respects and in that she garners all the power intrinsic. - no need for erato when she's around to keep my arteries and thoughts clear of emotional plaque and writers' embolisms. - she is euterpe on a stage of all the beautiful words in all the beautiful languages that can never be explained, only known, and loved and said in blissful ignorance. - she's thalia and melpomene, comedy and tragedy, laughter in her steps, and springtime song, and the ache of departure evident in her wake. - terpischore at play when the music starts, involuntary, a reflex; dancing is like breathing to she who will break my heart so many times. - she is urania -- she keeps my eyes on infinity and away from sights that feel like shaky index knuckles on unforgiving pistol triggers. - she is clio, keeper of simple night histories, because those are what she lives for,Β Β and those are what i've always mused upon living for -- with her.