she_walked_this_earth lycanthrope the well in the village mirrored the sky. the boys would go and dip their faces into buckets of cold clouds and secondhand blue. if the well ever emptied, half the sky would be gone. when she would walk to the well, the shyer boys would sooner stare into the sun, than her eyes which carried yesterdays sun as well. down little dirt roads, her feet awoke volleys of dust, masking the sweet scent of her wake. the air she left behind was less breathable, the air in which she stood in, somehow more. at night over the soft din of violins, the sky was marred by shutters and families talking over warm bread, liberties which took like laws. when she passed by each morning, women would rest their hands on each others shoulders, and not hide their tiredness. the men would tilt their heads up as if drunk, and for a moment forget their way home. when she left finally. she was a cautionary tale told to sons by mothers. a lesson, so they'd ignore what couldn't be real. but it was too late. they'd stare into the well all day. she was a constellation they put into the wrong sky. 021014 ... curious king george III what is more real? 021015 ... lobsterman i wish she'd walk it again. 021015 ... . . 041217 ... camille she still exists in the hopeful thoughts of every man as it is so in thoughts of women that men would find their way home she still exists 041218 ... camille cellos fell off trebles cleft men’s thoughts rang a haunting bell like a Tibetan monk meditating a search for the woman that would meet their every need lifting their spirits hope gathers clouds seasons swept away days, nights, minutes, ours moon pondered it's next move sipping on chamomile tea watching from afar lakes are on fire summer skies ablaze in winter's crimson sky men clueless as to who is setting the fires 041218 ... . test 041218 ... Ouroboros clothed in an animal body, living flesh holding her infinite heart 121226 what's it to you? who go blather from