A Charm Bracelet, A White Bird

Prince songs at a late stage. Losses. Christmas lights on the neighbor's garage left on for days. We are never looking at the same moon, yet we are always looking together. The world is a charm bracelet. A white bird flies higher and higher until it disappears in the sky, in a kingdom of clouds. Insert Deleuzian quotes here. Fiction only gets you so far. This watercolor heart, this crystalline soul, this optimistic pecker. The metaphor collapses, the family collapses, the world collapses. Milky beads of semen she massages in with her index finger. Many many messes. Catholic masses? Who will carry us forward if not our mothers and fathers? We become things, transcend things. It's performance all the way down until you reach the levels where it's not, then its all author and authority as far as they eye can see. Weeping guitars, bleating horns. Only time is indifferent to the passage of time. Bent cattail, slow burns soothed by aloe, the moose frozen mid-step between drifts of snow. The Queen, my Lord, is - how shall I say this - dead.