(sitting watching wind blow
sipping mint tea
thinking...)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
it is no easy thing
to write entity into Being
no one told me about the responsibility
of birthing vicarious
fictive characters
I mean,
do you really want that character hanging around,
laughing through your dreams
standing next to you in the shower
watching you make love
whispering in your ear
humming along with you to the song on the radio?
well do you?
even the ones you kill off
don't really ever go away
they linger in the part of your brain
that conceived them in the first place
the part that labored
all of those long, sweating hours
to deliver them safely to the outstretched arms of the blank page
all of my characters are me
I do not know how
just that they are
yes, i am the hero
and the lover and the saint and the villain
and the lover and the saint and the villain
and the nemesis and the witch and the maid
and the crone and the Father
and the fallen leaves that she watches
as they swirl over the ground at her feet
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