It all started with a glimpse through the single lamp on the Atlantic side. Under the stillness of Altair, Mira, Sadr; above the Silence of the Lambs.
Woke up and slept with the same buzz; with the same initial typed at the end of each heart-rending note. Detested by those dreadful musty karaoke rooms, she rarely dared––with a shaky yet sensual voice––to sing along with Gloria’s ‘I Will Survive’; the glorious Gloria.
I read her lips every single time in slow motion:
And so you’re back
From
outer
space…
I never pitied her, but I did the ones who pitied her.
-s
Toronto, January 2023