Saturday 10/20/2007 11:59:00 PM

Taking her frailties like insulin injections. Stifling the disease to make it come back that much stronger. Eager as a tortoise. Blase as a hare. In fables she'd ostracized long ago. Critiques of weakness manufactured by a Zen of Camelots. She's as strong as she needs to be to pretend the truth is a metaphor. There's an Aesop in every orgasm. She thinks as she imagines what clothes they take off for other women.

There are so many lives she's almost lived. Like scenes cut from a movie. Scripts rewritten for happier endings. It's pastures frying under the slope of the sun. Too confident in our dependence.

Soft battles in hard wars. Big answers in little bottles.

She doesn't remember what they wore.

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