crits returned. I wrote this a while ago. I keep trying to go through and edit it, but it was that long ago that I've sorta lost the train of thought I had while writing it. I'm honestly not sure how it's gonna be recieved - and I know it's not a proper sestina, I just struggled to conform completely to the limiting structure. Some of the punctuation may need reworking - I'm sure people can correct me if need be



‘This is where the story starts,’ she said, ‘this is the part where the birds soar
like planes in air-shows, where flowers burst out and water pours
over parched ground.’ I unraveled like the thoughts she inspired, and there
below the low-light of a sunrise I watched the first steps of a farmhouse foal, where
it stumbled and danced an unsteady waltz to
the sound of a mothers cry, with weak legs and glazed-over eyes.

With a curtsy and short breath it fell like the pendulum I
weigh each word with. Oh, and how the small miracle I saw
left me airless; loose lips and baby bottles close to
hips, like a stop-motion picture with a pause
every dozen or so frames. ‘How did it know where
to go?’ she whispered, ‘How does it even know why she’s there?’

And there
amongst hay bails and needles, I
nearly lost words to silence. ‘…A were-
wolf knows how to transform…’A chainsaw
near a megaphone wouldn’t have torn a pause
apart so well, even if it tried to -

an explosion. Oh, how the ground shook to
and fro, the roof peeled off, the walls fell flat, and there!,
lo, a machine gun choir crescendoed and tore through pores
and pockets of disbelief. She stood with wide eyes
and an ethereal glow, balanced on a see-saw
of contradictions. I cried, ‘Where?

Where are the flowers now? Where
are the open skies and the rivers running down to
waterfalls?’ And through that mountain of debris I saw
the final breaths of an entire family; crushed along with their
innocence and buried in an incandescent glow. I
heard the thunder of a warplane pause

and then vanish. ‘Like the full glass pours
wine, the cradle calls the casket,’ From where
I stood she suddenly seemed so serene, but those marble eyes
glistened with fragility and yet, boundless hope . ‘And like a bird to-
wards clouds,’ flames licked the ground there
before her, ‘I must also soar.’

She left me there with only ash and embers, and went to
a place where the things she saw
would cause those dreamy eyes to brighten and her laughter to pour.
O! music: Click (Youtube)

^ Click to see an acoustic arrangement of Ke$ha's 'Your Love is my Drug' - everyone's favourite song.