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Prose Philharmonic

Hannah Capps

Jan 29, 2006
Kaz detected Inej was absent, ‘brick by brick’ setting fires, setting free. His heart full of things she’d said. He’d liberated her, she’d emancipated him.

He wasn’t a champion, but that wasn’t what Ketterdam needed, she said as much. Inej didn’t want a ‘better man’ she sought him. Both hearts an echo chamber...identical points...

Kaz thought he wasn’t any good. His depreciated custom-breathless, boneless...

Sound reflection, waves navigating the push and pull, the give and take… afraid of only taking, stealing, hurting. unfastened, noxious blood, tactile aftermath…

Inej quiet as always slipped in the cracks, only ever sneaking up on Kaz once, after which she never did because he could always sense her silent strides…

‘Hello Inej, what business?’ Answer intel, eloquent song. An answer rasp. Jazz piece, jousting air.

The usual, Pekka Rollins casino was declining in clientele, enterprise was thriving at the Crow Club, all things articles of conversation that were risk-free visits, but eyes spoke more than language.

The rough texture of ‘what is love’ ‘I’m defective’ ‘I’m sorry for what I’ve done.’ Eyes that spoke ‘please tell me what you really mean’ because running away was safer.

It hurt what they became, the furrowed brow, the sick twist of satisfying disrespect. The divinity clung like colored rot. Ready always and a day to chance what was really meant.

Going for the kill, ‘look a lie, look alive.’ In truth, a curse, a cure, a hunger, underneath everything.

Strangle hold, ‘speak to me’ never verbalized in words but through the oceans that were the eyes.

‘I love you.’ Truth too painful. Would this be the way it always came about, the push and pull, the gravity, the orbiting but never landing?

‘Hope is dangerous, clouds judgment.’ American ginseng wheel spoke, note of discord, ‘What did you see?’ Not directly answered but implied a hopeful wish. Not noted what was had, making reality and cognition. In truth?

Grobe Fuge (Op. 133) perishing weightiness of gold. Frightening how, lightening struck emotion led burning by the lamplight. ‘Fuck you!’ visage, not stating, fearing feel. ‘What a small way to live.’ Indeed.

Shadows landing on the place wantonness. Setting fire interlacing inside. Chaotic heady youth. Are you still bleeding? Are you still feeling? ‘You started it!’ ‘Maybe I won’t come back!’ Lifeless face, disheartened and forgotten. Boggy views, words expressed, broken chests.

Learning the most when least expected when damaged pieces mended. Miles away, hopeless expressions, truth falling out, worn injures ajar. Light shining through, ‘Who will look out for you?’ ‘No one is ever smart enough to look for the tells.’

Blistering skin, Queens Plague behind concrete walls. Delivered act, cold heat. Hopeless spirits.

Hiding away, chasing the day. ‘Knives out, pistols drawn.’ Upside turned over blue world. Delivered chatter. Biblical snare.

‘What is life worth if you have nothing left to fight for?’

Umbilical cord, better than none. Secret to life, ALL RIGHT?

All the same.