After Ophelia

Ophelia’s drowning in desolation is like my isolation sometimes — a pity,
the perverse falling down on one’s knees after reading snippets of the 
Duino Elegies. My own stone and star is demarcated somewhere within those same sounds, the lasting of ever-present toil, the maudlin impulse of existential awareness; freedom to address both one’s angels and one’s demons, the erotic mess of the senses, big bites of unsweetened cherry pie.

Dilemmas.

The dilemma is wide and historic, epic, sophomoric, gothic. Junkets, 
dear John, is smiling somewhere she is certain, fingering his neck scarf, closing his eyes, sending her black comfort, blackened closed roses. Absence of scent is the thing to go for, to falter, in plain sight, in front of, 
the humiliation, complete and untidy. If anyone is listening they will detect the hard ear against an even harder ground, straining for some tone. 
This sort of decline is an embarrassment, an intimate gesture really, 
that is small and should be kept close and hidden.

Prima Facie.

The coarseness of the display is silly, self absorbed, a kind of chide against propriety. She does it out of rebellion really, and a need to locate true allegiance. The abstractions may annoy and obscure, but they are
the romantic remnants of nostalgic sensitivity, the softening of purpose
into penetrating reception, inception, gesticulation turned inward to accommodate subtle gesture, the resting within language that will allow 
for a return, full and red with life impulse — masks in tact as needed.

This descent is still needed at times, the low dark path, narrow enough 
for her to slip through quietly, and explore without too much attention 
to meaning. The enemy sometimes is the logical outcome, and her disgrace is a means of staking claim to her own voice, freeing its point of origin, 
the prima facie of her own heart heat, three steps backward with one small step forward.

Stone/Star/Steps

Yes I digress, regress, redress the whole slimy business, the crazed, shattered notion that I have anything at all worthwhile to say.