I felt a melting in me. No more my splintered heart and maddened hand were turned against the wolfish world. This soothing savage had redeemed it. There he sat, his very indifference speaking a nature in which there lurked no civilized hypocrisies and bland deceits. Wild he was; a very sight of sights to see; yet I began to feel myself mysteriously drawn towards him. And those same things that would have repelled most others, they were the very magnets that thus drew me.

Chapter 10, A Bosom Friend

There he sat.

But where?

Somewhere is the port where her noble savage awaits.

Something inside of her also waits

the drunken sailor who waits in her left pulse,

The options are as follows:






–there is no



she will ever find completion.

Well, perhaps one, but who would really want the completion that a hempen rope round the neck offers?–ay, there’s some completion for you, she thinks to herself.

No, she thinks, as she begins to swim toward her Insular Tahiti.  Completion is over rated.

If her savage awaits her,

he is not aware he is waiting.

But he has always been waiting, in some sense or another.

She has no more been there,

than she was ever


Still, it has gone unnoticed

He has taken what he wants

and never much bothered to distinguish between her presence

or absence.

As long as her body was there.

When she is there,

when she is



with him,

he is sweetly amazed.

Maddened with love for her and she is intoxicated in those moments by how

inextricable she is from him.

In the morning he kisses her before walking out the door,

three cherubs sprung from this union stumbling at his heels,

tangled in their dragging backpacks

Somehow these three separated from her body

in either an exhaustive day of pushing

or in a screaming ten minute ride

sixty miles per hour.

The parking lot ticket is stamped: 1:46

Time of birth:1:52

Yes, the first needed to be extracted with forceps.  The second came out in caul.

No one is ever born in caul anymore, but, as she swims to the edges of the water where her toes begin to touch against the cool sand just below the water’s surface she think this is a good legacy for the daughter of the woman who loves The Whale.

You will never drown, my daughter.  It is the blessing of the caul.

She wades up the shallows and sits to dry herself out on the sand.


She reaches the banks and recalls what it was like to be six and wonder just how deep that hole you were digging in the yard would have to be for you to come out in China.

And then, if you succeeded–what would you eat?

Oh, she has tried on a thousand skins,

and she is tired.

The act of tearing oneself away

does leave wounds.

The quickest patch has always been the other.

But she can never allow the other to stay on the outside

she consumes them all

And so, then do they become her,

does she become them

or is this the reason why she needs to find

a new place to inhabit

even if it is only

a fiction.