"My name is Monica Rose"

I think of sentences

before------ they
disappear co-
mpletely
.

Waiting is a tribute but what changed your mind? Was it the Great American Dream and Californian sunshine / I have spent the years unable to shed -- a tear -- , there is nothing wrong with being young and ruined beyond imagination.

*

Quieter and quieter still my body convulsed with fear and electricity (did she do that and was I her replacement) I was a deranged woman and they call me Monica, Mon(ster) and our shadows froze midway like an ugly unfinished setenc-

.

My sacrifice would be worth it you had promised, I had barely remembered. I am enraged by my dreams, I awoke to the silk of the moonlight to find that I have emptied the contents of what is made of me, finding further still that infinity is dispossessed at the thought of my illness and lacklustre beauty -oh envious grace, Janice - the trick is to imagine a truth even I would believe: perfection would be more than a namesake and our names glorified in the battlefields of the victorious. The pride and my lungs, enough to sustain our titles as the Kings of Kings and lo and behold!: even the whores cannot help but feast their eyes on our Greatest Creation, we tell our royal subjects as they now become that peace is amongst us and we shall reign till Kingdom comes- then I tell you, my love I will forsake you and leave you and what shall you say to that?