invincible summer.

[i wrote this as an fb note, and i don't usually crosspost things there over here, but i like this, and sunday, february thirteenth was a bit of a breakthrough, and i like the way it came out so suddenly and so effortlessly. so here it is.]
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you make me myth, i make you anecdote. let us meet like children again. you sulk, i cry. we rejoice the next day. i don't know you anymore. i may never have known you. in front of the others, i circle a spot of bright light and talk incessantly about the tyranny of meaning. i want to say something. i want them to understand. but i don't take enough care to see if they do. a week passes. i am surprised that it has only been a week. i wrestle with the unhomely, the uncanny, the unhomeliness of...everything. i want to say that i have no home because i have always been playing make-believe. i don't know how to say it. we don't talk anymore. work piles up. i make small talk. i have a lot of crepes. i see myself in full hijab. then it is sunday evening and i think, "that is a rather abstract way to narrate a story, this fable you jealously call your story, a story which would be solely yours," is the best thing i have read in a long while. a crow flies past. i pine for long, very long hair, perhaps grey, maybe all white like a woman i saw in an airport last year. hair until the middle of my thighs so i can wear it like a dress. the skin over my knuckles dries out and i can see thirty years into the future between the bifurcation of my veins. i am quite, quite alone now. i don't worry. i should be worrying. i smile. everything is going to be alright.