She Knew Words No One Had Ever

She Died On A Windy Gray Day In March When The Sky Was Full Of Darting Crows And The World Lay Prostrate And Defeated After Winter. Peter Lake Was At Her Side And It Ruined Him Forever. It Broke Him As He Had Not Ever Imagined He Could Have Been Broken. He Would Never Again Be Young, Or Able To Remember What It Was Like To Be Young. What He Had Once Taken To Be Pleasures Would Appear To Him In His Defeat As Hideous And Deserved Punishments For Reckless Vanity.

No One Ever Said That You Would Live To See The Repercussions Of Everything You Do, Or That You Have Guarantees, Or That You Are Not Obliged To Wander In The Dark, Or That Everything Will Be Proved To You And Neatly Verified Like Something In Science. Nothing Is: At Least Nothing That Is Worthwhile.

She Knew Words No One Had Ever Heard Of, And She Used Words Every Day That Had Been Mainly Dead Or Sleeping For Hundreds Of Years.

...i Returned To Walking Up The Mountain, And There, In The Dim Asexual Beauty Of Reddening Dawns And Skies That Firmed To Blue, I Discovered My Real And Appropriate Strengths.

When Faced With Something I Fear, I Tend To Eat Spaghetti.