Amelia: Still Life
I’m standing in the middle of my garden,
small and special,
like an ancient idol, hidden for centuries
by the luxuriant vegetation
which grew
Amelia: Grace
I could have died a thousand ways
or not have lived at all. I could have sold my happiness for envy, rage, and gall. I could have drowned in grief and tears, and given up my soul. I could have followed on my fears
to falter, fail and fall.
Sophie: Your Guests from the Meta of Real
Can you hear us, stranger? Can you hear us, friend?
Ethan: Life Itself
I sit inside my silence, not even awake, maybe, waiting patiently for the cocoon to open, not eager, not afraid. I wait.
Jessica: Echoes
I call for my soul inside the soaring chambers of my soul, and their tall walls and vaults reverberate and multiply my voice into thousands of new me’s, also lost, also searching.