Saturday 1/10/2009 01:14:00 AM

The window was brown on the edges. Dirty glass in the center. Looking out. Moons too low. Chances not taken.

Wake up the coroner. We've got corpses everywhere. Lipstick on the canyons. Her ever-parted doll's smile. Legs like Vesuvius. Eager to erupt. Spread their own brand of death.

The mannequin with pretty eyes. Unable to see. The teddy bear feeling for its nose. Choking on his bow tie. Blindness comes it stages. This is the first.

Moving. Partial skyscrapers push the sky away. With bent fingers. A menagerie of strangers fuss about in little houses on even littler streets. Life overlooks the mediocre. Blindness comes in stages. This is the second.

Naming saviors. After the places where I've died. Trust is crayons. People are coloring books. Thick outlines on recycled paper. Tempting artists to try.

Going forward. I can't see, but I know. Why the window still won't open. For the same reason that the door remains closed.

Blindness comes in stages. This is the last.

She says, I'm ready to leave. He says, go then. My mania is all I have to give. And I've given you all of it. Blindness. She whispers. Is our greatest asset. In a world where everything is just appearances.

Taking her island elsewhere. She began preparing for a different timeline. Monkeys she assumed knew more than she did. About people. And the places they will go.

There was a logic in lying. She could almost see. There was a science to love. She wished she hadn't. Kill the embryo. Build cities in the womb. Some place small enough where I'll never have to see.

Blindness. She mused. Makes fools into sages. Black windows cure a blacker world. I see numbers only. Arithmetic in limbs. And folds of skin. Cascading down from sagging tits. Old women frantically changing into torn nightgowns. Leaching through the dark for a dusty switch. That will turn the light on.

Taking the first step. There are too many she admits. That high left me long ago. I'm looking for the smaller pieces.

Still I don't know what I'd do with them should I ever find.

Ignore the evidence. Being that I've always known.

The Secrets I've just been told.

Blindness. In stages. The needle pushing in. With frets of poison too sweet to disregard. Blindness. Like atoms into weapons. Assuming. I've ever seen.

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