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And by . . . I mean
He’s really small you know. And he watches people. It’s easier this way, you see.
His little ears poke out so, he hates the elements but loves Platonic solids.
He watches you the closest though, my dear, because you’re his precious beauty. His crowning jewel. His spotless emerald—why he thinks you’re green I’m not sure but child, he loves you somehow.
And by elements he means You.
Fire. And your sisters- Earth, Air, Water—even two more that aren’t the same and more than that if you add.
And such.
His head is small and shiny like a penny but flat like a pie and sweet like a friar but scented like lemony grapefruity so-full-of-Vitamin-C you’ll never catch another cold if you breath into his scalp.
And you could polish furniture with it—
His toes are touching the ceiling right now and he’s on his bed pressing them into it but really he’s swinging off power lines like a grand trapeze artist. Well halfway- he’s only dreaming.
He doesn’t talk to you but you know he’s listening if you want to say things even though he’s swinging off power lines
So you tell him about your day in boring tones so he’ll become normal it works like that right? And he agrees but he was bored with you before you came and you can imagine how it is now.
And by You I mean manic depression.
So- virtue, a fig!- you decide to just watch him. That’s always been enough. And he knows but what does it matter? His toes are small and pink like a baby’s and his voice you can’t imagine because you’ve forgotten how people speak.
Finlandization!!
Scratch
scratch scratch say his toenails against the ceiling-must be long to
do that-and hocus pocus. You get tired of him and move back to
talking to the ceiling, which is what you started out doing before
that stupid Sanity distracted you.
And those cynical drapes-
-- note- Just so you know, you weren’t supposed to get it. It wasn’t supposed to make sense. I don’t really know what I was thinking when I wrote this sometimes things just come and I decided to try writing as they came instead of thinking about it.