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| "Communicating with the angels" |
Blue’s hair sticks up
in a ponytail
chaotic child maybe
freakish
things jutting out of her
exclamation marks
her statements of truth.
Blue has a ribbon in her hair
a big bow
red
satiny innocence
shiny
catches your eye.
Blue has a mirror
the shouts from behind
are heard
bursts of air and sound
cries and punctures
explosions of voice
“But not words ...”
says Blue
she wants to make sure
you understand
“Those are not not not words
that you hear!”
she points to the mirror
and behind
“Not words. You understand?”
It’s important you understand Blue.
The floor extends out beyond Blue
beyond her mirror
beyond those sounds
it reaches out towards you
with talons
looking for your warm flesh
to grab
and sink her hold onto you.
“Listen!” she hisses sharply at you,
spits the word in your face
“Listen!”
she looks around
checking for those
who might be listening
who must be listening
no doubt.
“Listen!”
She snaps again
so you stop
and so you listen.
Blue’s brain works
like braided tentacles of information
all one body
all one source
but ever moving
undulating
waving
and flowing
she thinks different
than you do
the mass of tissue inside her head
electric and sparking
thoughts forming and jumping
synapses
no gap too wide
for ideas to form
and wild ...
so wild
are those ideas of hers
you only have to look
into her eyes
to see
the frenetic energy in that head
of Blue’s.
The ribbon in her hair
it ties those thoughts down
holds them back
reins them in
just a little
just enough
pretty-ribboned little girl
all sweet and sugary
she seems to you
but oh how she’s fooled you
fingers crossed behind her back
and smiling sweetly.
But then she speaks
and then you know
no sweetness there
“Everything’s always complicated” she says
“Chaotic and complicated –
nothing simple.
Not for me anyway.”
Blue’s ribbon
turns brighter red
tensing its grip on the workings
in her head
she thinks she thinks too much...
she thinks
“If I could stop these strands
of new ideas
from blooming every 5 minutes...”
she pauses....
and sighs
and moves her feet
brushing on the kitchen floor.
“If only...
then maybe it would be
quieter in here.”
she points to her chest
her heart
her belly
then looks up at you
with big big overwhelmed eyes
eyes that know so much
eyes that seek so much
looking
always looking
then down again
and sighs.
“There was a Black Wing...”
she hesitates ...
licks lips...
moistening her dry mouth
of her bold bold fear
“There was a Black Wing Dove.”
“What do you mean – a dove?
A bird of peace?”
you ask
she nods her head
no words
she’s not supposed to tell
no one is supposed to know
but she wants so much anyway
despite everything
and she wants you to know
wants to confide
in you
her one dark secret.
“One dove.
One peacemaker.”
says she.
“Someone who tried to stop it”
is her final word.
One of her brainy strands
extends itself
to you
gives you something
gives you hope
and gives you wonder.
“A dove.”
“Yeah. A dove.
Someone who tried to stop it.”
Someone who tried.
The sparks fly fast and bright
from out of her brainy head
“One dove is all you need to know
and then we go home.”
Blue is not at all frightened.
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