If you keep your eyes on the horizon, eventually joy will come into view, allowing you to pull it in. Then you will say, a muse sings in colors. Then I will say, I got lost in Muir Woods, where I learned I no longer want the sands broken free from the hourglass, to run through my fingers.
Those with empty heads, soon come to women who have acquired a crumb of knowledge. And just like that, Joseph began to seek me out again. He wants to reach into my eyes, and remove what sparkle they possess after looking at trees for hypnotic hours, that come in twos.
His Corpse Bride is in jail, he said. At this, I acted like a bolt of lightening coursed through me. The feigned shock widened my eyes, making it possible to disguise a smile.
There are things I know and this I knew, I thought to myself.
He mentioned something about home invasion. I looked at him with sympathetic eyes, grabbing on to enough of what he said, to continue a conversation.
We bore each other in equal measure. His lips move, but they say nothing.
That is only partially true. Joseph, in that accent of his, marked with the sluggishness of stupidity, asked me to sleep with him. I smiled, lovingly told him I would wait for him at night, then I walked away with a coquettish sway. Soon after, I left my house, not returning until early the following morning.