Tuesday, July 28, 2009

she spoke about small sentences.



Space ship
invitation
smoke stack
unleavened translation
holiness
crooked sunnies
stained eyes
dirty sweater
Chinese boots
burnt food
imagery
courage
milk.



Celine said to me, "Do you want to see a special room?"




Invisible spaces that fall in the wilderness, destined to eventually never make a sound in my sight line. Purposeless. Welcomed imagery as I polish off more self hate. Her gift of nuance cooled my pistol of discouragement emptying the bullets on a cleared palate. Abilities were revitalized and I was able to see my reflection again.

I don't remember what had upset me that day.
I just remember Celine.




Celine Davenas
davenas.celine@gmail.com

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