Regarding the Muse or My Husband
We rode a barrel over Niagara Falls as practice for riding night over the skyline. We forgot we had names and mothers. We did it without a drop of drink. We wrote “FOR A GOOD TIME CALL KALI” in dove’s blood ink on bathroom stall walls, to test what she’d do. We became armchair neurosurgeons and rewired our brains so they led one to the other. We prayed so well we heard all the gods answer, each singing their part of the harmony with such sweet perfection our goosebumps lasted days. But that was a different time. Before the contracts.
Photo credit: S. Pallavicini
moved by the end. loved it. i hope you publish your novel soon.
This is so lovely. Thank you.