superb owls







Superb Owls: A Tale of Talking Twice 




My friend suggested a work around for certain commercial terms that one must not utter in early winter. Instead of talking about an oversized bowl filled with football players, we talk about superb owls who don’t get fined by the NFL.



It was on Superb Owl Sunday this February past that I said what I had felt convicted say.



It was the culmination of a long weekend spent learning to let go.



I had *locked my hopes for a different future securely to posts from our past. The bands inscribed “Beloved” formed silver linings along these clouds of broken promise.



I cried and prayed a little, sitting in one of the old wooden swings. I'd held my firstborn there. I reflected on all my years that light had seen.



Then I hurled the contents of my stomach onto the cold, damp sand. I think I had the flu.



~*~



I rehearsed what I might say all along the two-hour way. I wanted to build an olive bridge.



We made the exchange as decreed by law and then I spoke my part.



“I’m still yours” he replied  “and legally, we are bound”



There was an acknowledgement that I’d been replaced and that the proverbial cart was now somewhat before the horse.



The next few days were...interesting.



In my hesitancy, **more harm (to me)  was inflicted.



MORAL:

In winter time, say one thing, mean another- whether it is owls or bowls you prefer.

Whichever  works out is the one you meant.

Who can charge you for saying it slanted?



Not the NFL



*The lock & bands have since been removed, treasure hunting is futile

** He rescinded his heart and charged me with contempt for moving back towards him too slow




No, No, Pinocchio


Grab that puppet 


Snip its strings


Dip the nose in


Kerosene 





Strike some matches 


Watch them gleam  


The puppet is drinking


Gasoline 





Flames leap lively, 


Light reveals


Wooden liar boys


Can never be real 

Less A Lie

Yes


Yes 


She is less


Less 


Of  a 


Lie 


Than 


Me



trending: telling the girl what to do

Girl, wash your face and count to three...(he ran to someone who wasn’t me).

Girl, stop apologizing and just breathe...(this is where you see you're free).

Girl, open your eyes wide and see... (fairytales are cautionary).

Girl, wash your face or leave and make do...(streaked mascara as a face tattoo).

Girl, stop apologizing for wrongs that aren’t yours...(salvage the damage and build a door).

Girl, open your eyes and take a look...(it’s about time to write that book).

~~~*~~~

:: One year and a handful of months later, I wrote on the last page of my Morning Pages journal today. It is literally time to start a fresh chapter, and even a whole new book ::




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