...a deathly serenade...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AA
note. I feel that my conclusion has to then right
this wrong of our story, of us. Death not on
installment plan, but with a note. This song plays
in my dreams now, as The Eagle files above the
only True Eagle. I can’t sleep, and sit here
empty...
Our dreams reign out the seams
Of our unconscious minds.
...Therefore, Leila’s suicide administered a ghost
into my existence: as broken, she was more whole
than any being walking the face of this earth! So
sure I may have acted wrongly at a subsequent
soiree or drunk more as a result, though that is
neither here nor there! But The Administrator
also felt Leila’s ghost strangely awakening a latent
sexuality. To The Administrator she felt Leila had
awakened the sensuality within her and she left
citing those irreconcilable differences that really
amounted to her decision to become a lesbian
and leave me here. Her quest to find out if I was
in love with Leila had slowly turned into The
Administrator falling in love with Leila, as if she
concluded: Why would I not be in love with The
Eagle? She said of Leila in a heated argument,
her every movement as if dancing as poetry! Now
I sit here and realise that The Administrator fell
in love with what Leila represented, as opposed to
women. But regardless of this she has gone, and
she has left me with these conclusions: Gone are
the distractions; its swing will never relent.
Somebody has to put a stop to this. Granted.
Perhaps my life yearns for order, but I feel
dissipated by this! Convulsive as my allure maybe,
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