While you're drifting
off like the weather
with the weather
It is good to know
How the wind and rain sweep
you off your feet
romantically and rancorously
How life's intent to sweep
your rain and shine
regardlessly

I have ridden, silent, passive,
On the shoulders of my Privilege
Well-sheltered
Full-bellied
Sure-footed and surely rebellious
Over dried ancestral footprints
That erode away a little more
Every time I leave the sprinklers on

I have flourished Wildly in my art
Donated my body
To the telling of Stories
And dissected myself
Again and again
In the name of
Great Expression

I have held Love's little finger
(Squeezed it in my fist)
Grasped It by the nape
And sunk my teeth into the tail of Its brownwool wintercoat
Crinkling aggressively
across a trail-less, crisp Red Wood

Why then
am I so
******* Suicidal all the time
?

Small girl up in the tower,
Hidden away to draw out shadows.
Covered in downy fur,
Wintercoat of the halfbreed dragonkin,
Children of moonlight serpents, masters of crystals.
She has never lived among her kin,
The Woman of the Painting with scythe.
No, always she has walked Anor Londo,
Towers of the gods
Alongside her brother.
That is the story, that was.
Now she guards city under siege,
Company captain in name if not spirit,
Singing songs of vengeance
Whose words she does not comprehend.
Yet she sings on for her brother,
The sheltered dragon of the tower,
The bell carrying captain.