“I Wanted Rhetoric. I Could Only Howl The Rotten Truth.”
Once wandering Wiccan Mother Goddess,
Bright Eyes, singing about the time she drove all night.
She was with him when he sang about Tabletops—but he didn’t sing about its toweringly tall palm trees or their sweet and ripe coconuts hanging just over the ocean’s edge, where water meets sand and the sand meets volcanic reef with bastard urchins in every crevice and neither of us brought sandals and that branch won’t support us both and how we won’t give a shit because we’re in paradise and what’s an urchin spine or seven anyways?
Instead he passionately sang about love and eternal friendship, “on fire with the same force that lit the stars,” and how life’s sweetest gifts are almost always toughest to reach.
So, when it was time for her to go, he went, for only a fool would abandon love. All her life she sought a thing she could not name until she found him, outside of the circle she’d cast: in perfect love, and in perfect trust.