memory blanking i don't want to be the dark one in the corner smashing roses in yr name such a plateau of non-being, non-fretting. and that all i might endeavor might be with /self/ sufficience to say there were such things/ the numbness that ensues says i'm the me minus you: whole for the first time, and wholly empty. and dedicated, still, to the ice fragments remaining. afterward i loved yr constant cruelty, your rare ability to desecrate me. because such a broken person Knows numb, and Goes numb with opportunity. so self can never be ascertained -- we never wished for constants, until we met Confusion. and one could lay one out, facing sunrise, and one could lay the other towards dusk. and one might lay them right by the other, but they may never notice each other. and we construct puzzles. we have all of the pieces; no indication of the sum of the thing and i don't want to be the one with only memory blanking but i would be a vagabond before a rose destroyer 09.30.00