Love Ia

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

I want to draw

a straight line in your

mind and mine; from

my presently terminal

state to my long-ago

friend, long-ago lover,

a line of causation, a line

of fatal nourishment.

Sketching what I must see

as cruelty and a will to kill.

One who I fear, I need

and I may still love.

Why else want her

smile, her courtesy, her

thoughtful reflection, to

know why in a way that

speaks of hostility’s end?

Okay. I may just want to

not leave anger trailing

from my grave.

Love IIa

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

The story began (of

course) with crazy

transcending superlative

love; then steam was lost,

coverup compromises, dis-

trust, fear, horned in.

The unfortunate usual.

But it, she, made my parents

smile, they unaware of modern

romance. We were underway

with too many deeply

invested hopes; afraid

to go forward afraid

to go back: Her

romance ended. My

romance couldn’t

didn’t wouldn’t; wanted

her love again.

Her skin was so soft her

eyes were so bright

her love was so sweet. I

could never be sure

of her.

Love IIIa

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

My love offended, stood

in the way of an end; pride

played a part too on both

sides. and sides there were.

Gashes in the sides of each,

both offended, wounded.

No help for it

until the cancer. Then every-

thing changed; several times.

She intended to be my care-

giver. She didn’t want to be

my caregiver. She offered to

let me stay in her apartment.

She had no wish to share her

apartment with me. These last

two were the high and low of

our connection until there

was none. And then she

threatened to call the police if

I appeared on our property

(I didn’t know), while she

was visiting me in hospital

to comfort and encourage me.

Love IVa

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

She is unsettled in

the degree of

hatred and distaste, of dislike

and contempt, of fear and

associated terms of

emotional (dis)engagement

she is willing to express

and, or conceal.

She has exhibited and in-

hibited exquisite sweetness

wrapped up in kindness, requisite

kindness appropriately,

fierce burning darkness flung like

a glove scathingly across my face;

wonderful warmth and bone-

breaking chill, sinister

happiness and sinister innocence

all in the service of what is likely

a mystery even to, particularly for

her. It would

seem her overriding concern is for

opportunities for flirting.

(Not sex, particularly: Flirting.)

Love Va

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

So here we have begun

a straight line; erased in spots,

shaded in others, scumbled and

blurred, sharp and soft.

A line in fact, for which there

is verbal testimony. In the period

we might call Early Post Breakup

or Paleobreakup, she told me, on

her way out for the evening, her

favorite activity, her greatest satis-

faction, was flirting.

Thus this from which all else

descended. It would be this

that led to her disengagement,

it was this that led her to refuse

me shelter during recovery, this

for which she negotiated my

legally enforced absence from

my home. This for which she had

crushed my spirit and fed my cancer.

But imagine the confusion, the mental

and emotional contortions. Poor woman.

A lost soul, hopeless confusion: Exhibit A.

Love VIa

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

And the reason, the source,

the manner of generation?

Simple enough in its own

sort-of Freudian way. That

is: If I’m not completely

delusional myself. (And

since I speak, as most do,

from a smattering of tabloid

‘Science’, delusion is not at

all unlikely. So with a fist

full of salt for the wounds:

She’s a boy, in the genetic sense.

She has made no great secret of it

in the past; that may have changed.

But the fact only came to her attention

after her undescended testicles had

been cut out of her abdomen. Here

“came to her attention” is misleading.

The doctors had not told her what

they were after, not until after, later,

when any choice she may have

wished to exercise was

no longer available.

Love VIIa

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

She, rightly, felt betrayed. She, rightly,

was angry. Very betrayed. Very angry.

Imagine, she was in theory on the verge of

being of child-bearing age. She had no

doubt begun to dream of herself as an

adult woman. Now everything had

taken on new shapes. New shapes

to which she had been looking,

forward. Newly imagined shapes

to which no one could have

been looking forward.

But she was the one

for whom there was no

pattern to follow, no con-

venient conventions to help

her over the usual rough spots.

Nor had her parents been a help.

She had been betrayed by them too.

She had no one who had shown themselves trustworthy. She had been cut adrift in

a body with no maps, no rules, no

training, and a lot of fear a lot of

pain: and no one who could comfort or help .

Love VIIIa

No longer drawing

back from an in-

commensurable fact:

Lost knowing lust but

that in part a social con-

struct destroying as much

as it builds: On top of that

most people have some form

of guidebook; much construction,

much destruction, deception of the

other, the self, integral, necessary for

success, survival; protective weaponry.

Her parents ‘meaning well’, not

helping, at all. Her friends, ‘meaning

well’, not helping, much. She, proud;

‘superior’, confused, lost. Deep down,

very angry. And, now, this fuckup,

this stubborn idiot, this offensive

asshole blocking hope of forward

movement; willfully offensive, revolting,

offensively stubborn, lacking in so

many ways.

Dump him

as fast as you can whatever

it takes; be merciless to

save yourself.