& (March 26, 2009. New Moon. Issue 2)

A girl turned woman walks a path, the path, a road, a route. And she defines her walk 
in clouds and sky, the grey or blue, the movements. Spells forward and she walks, toes 
in shoes, feet on ground, dirt and dust, walking. She passes daily or enough, this man,
a man, her man, until she walks and he is not, does not, is without movement, is not there. 
She walks, arms loaded in thoughts, arms of yarn and pitch, eyes of the sky, seeing a road 
without the man always there, her man, the man she wishes and wants. Blue, her eyes, 
the eyes that would have been in the face of her daughter, her girl, but this man never 
nodding his head never saying as he wanted to: yes, yes, yes. Doesn't appear, vacates from 
the path, the toad, her walking. He disappears and she walks, fading in, a new kind of sun. 
Walking, her, this girl turned woman, this woman turned away, no heads nodding yes, 
her own mouth stuck, her mouth a different story, a distinction and a touch, her, this woman, 
walking alone, a path, her path, into the new and differing indifferent sun.