Come inside and fulfill me, Grace! I am waiting for a déjà vu, the coming of an age and a season of restoration. We will bloom to fall again; we will vanquish and stay subdued, for a moment though. Your gaze is about to take away my pain, but it isn’t you I am here to see. Wake up! It’s Cedar. We run into each other once a year. She would take me to her haven, fix me up and put me to sleep. I, being an ingrate, would wake up in tatters and become the tempest.
We meet again the following year. She is the perfect host, and I the perfect parasite. I should stop my ridiculous exhibition, the fostering of an outlandish demeanor and a lack of empathy. I want to stick around forever but I will be the end of you. I’ll cut you down in my sleep and write about my loss.
You believe in me. I am wrapped around, anointed, comforted and humored. I bloom forever with the rot tucked away where it can’t be seen. It can be felt though. I am the best side of myself.
The space around us has expanded. The cat reappears. There is a motif, a notion of self, freedom from guilt, futility, abhorrence and decadence. The foliage is receding; the purrs get low and distant; you’re turning gray while I write about my loss. I am my best premonition.
How we have changed in time! It is probably because of the fillers – the minutiae. Every one of you should be indicted; all but one is to blame. The world seems to be most unfair; the sangfroid is lost. I am dull. At that moment, you (Cedar) come inside to fulfill me. I close my eyes to be restored. Instead, you tell me who cut you down. Resentment!