Torrents of torches set my private town ablaze. I live just beyond the cemetery, where the sea and the shore make illicit love. What does it mean to be equal when the scales are broken? Children scatter through the world’s playgrounds like ants. I was once at home on the fertile earth, but I have come through the birth canal of insanity into the broad and silent universe. Now I’m making a pitiful attempt at screaming as the fire reaches my mind.

Dear Letter C:

Your deepest desire is sky blue, and I have loved you like line loves paper. You complete me. I am a mere catalog of inhuman fantasy, but who in the holographic universe really gives a flying future? Desire is a strand of sparkling curling ribbon adorning the package we call union. What magic destroys the edges of purple leaking into our blue, burning paradise? What keeps us protected from green, from an insidious viridian?

-L