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e.d.jmmusechron/“Stina’s Pawn” reflection scene(from within a fortress)

{Contrast of parallel lives:}

(Scene is ‘Electra’ in bedroom at Southampton’s house after Stina’s proposition about babysitting/spying on Jörn)

panic, like being flushed through a tunnel into white heat that just tastes like fear…. but we don’t let it reach inside…. just a reflex ….hair trigger that awareness ….the awareness ….there’s reason ….for and in the codes as….this is the only safe place to put ….

trust ….

this implosion, I will own it, electra …. I will —I do own it…. as you know, I thought it was a safe gamble but —anyway—fuck; we land on our feet every time, don’t we, e.d.?

to put a marker here, I document here and show you through example how secrets get expressed through literary code…. the language we speak in, my immortal pirate with the vampire eyes

****

I think now of how it felt to be locked in “the dungeon” 

and ….

those days alone inside that crypt where the safe had been

….imprisoned behind a coded barrier 

…..and I think about Stina’s proposition …..not knowing what to do

….the confusion of trust 

    is it such a surprise to face this now?

For, how many times have I had to revise my list of those I can truly trust? ….switching loyalties because they were not whom they said they were 

switching loyalties …. like a repetitive dance until ….you are the only one —you/theCelf—knows who is ever consistent and says what she means 

….yet I always get cornered….

Jörn though…. and I go back over to the towel with his platinum/silver embroidered monogram that shines like his eyes in the light; such powerful kryptonite ….and I think of Gerald’s words when I asked him why should two souls meet again lifetimes later…. I had thought it was to settle some score, they always say that, don’t they? 

but no, I’d never thought it could be ….”to heal”

….so then ….how do I proceed? It would be so wrong to plot behind someone’s back ….and my conscience would never let me….. but also…. how could I ever do that to Jörn? I could not. And then I think about how Jörn said —I could not trust…. only —I do— I do trust him—but ….I can’t tell him I do and —I don’t know if this omission voids it out for its value ….and if it does, what does this mean?

….but then, I never got to ask—does he trust me?

and with this thought I turn to look out at the ocean waves as they work to lull my mind….and lean against the headboard feeling tired 

cyfrinach ryfedd amdanaf - byddaf yn cyfaddef yma yn iaith niwl a hud…. (a'm treftadaeth gudd, gudd)

 does neb yn berchen arna i.  Nid wyf erioed wedi cwrdd â dyn yr oeddwn yn teimlo ei fod yn deilwng i allu rhoi fy hun iddo.  weithiau mae wedi teimlo ei fod oherwydd fy mod i eisoes yn perthyn i rywun ers talwm.  mae wedi bod fel hyn i mi erioed;  roedd yno bob amser yn cysgodi fy meddyliau a'm cof

by that threadbare rope; notes to a stranger/ 25 August 2021

 

always, it is when in my worst hour of need that he appears; he does come to me 

                                                  …..in dream 

 tack

 https://youtu.be/7jYtlPUMRZ8

chi ydyw; notes to a stranger

I wake up with my mind caught in a lasso. emotions and then nostalgia …. destroy me…. and no idea why…. 

if I could, I would admit …. 

and say 

the only grip I have ….tossed out through the cyber channels and volleyed like a whisper ….from the language of our codes —that very threadbare faith …. I am truly heard…. and it is not imagined

         ….thank you