1. Melancholia perched atop the Angel of Poetry on the Christmas tree, an invisible Elf on the Shelf there for maybe days. When no one was looking, she slid through the necklaces of tiniest lights across the crystal snowflake ornaments, small placards declaring noel, peace, silent night, believe to the manger carved in white stone.


  1. She was forgotten amidst the opening of glitter-wrapped gifts and held breaths during the scratching off of lottery tickets. No one won this year, but everyone had new socks.


  1. When the guests left, she permeated the entire House even with the dozen strands of Christmas lights, the starry night of deepest repose; the disturbing show paused.


  1. The missing gathered at the ceiling, dreaming of saying words out loud; touch. They missed their bodies; the play of cause and effect.


  1. Washed away by several warmer days, smaller piles of snow remained, dirty beneath the streetlights atop the brown leaves you never finished raking.


  1. You would let her stay tonight though it was a dangerous proposition; welcome her, in fact, for just tonight while you gathered your holiday-depleted energy and formulated a new strategy in the interstices of disturbing dreams.


  1. Melancholia hadn’t descended like this for five months. The Angel of Poetry had ensconced herself mid-summer; leading you through magical sentences; iterations, sublime; an infinity like no other except perhaps love.


  1. The Angel waited for the other to leave in the morning when you banished Melancholia with your deepest being, enriched with sleep.


  1. The beloved was still far away; words at the sea lost in high-tide winds of scatter.


  1. Work would complete the forgetting; the sweeping of sadnesses under the carpet of Thursday.


  1. The tires of the car needed twelve pounds of air on the passenger side, and you would figure out how to use the machine at the gas station without too much embarrassment.


  1. Your poker face perfected like the sunlight climbing through the trees.
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4 Responses to MEASURING WINTER /j  

  1. Yoshioka Owens says:

    Burton wrote, ‘Melancholy can be overcome only by melancholy.’ How’s that for a magical sentence? I believe strongly in words and I believe that your words are incredibly strong. I hope they help you.

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