Diary 47

Forgetting

having been vaulted and vilified, sidling walls with so much to hold
there was a certain lightness to the air now as they rode bikes after
dark, discontinuity a kind of liberation they hadn’t expected, hadn’t

thought was possible until they made the first incision, slicing the
narrative in two. now— now the city gave them wings, joy like a
river, riding swiftly between buildings like two greyhounds of equal

speed, past blurred and indefinite shapes, a silent serene mist rising
from the road. there’s a lot to carry, one of them casts across the
void separating them, & a lot to let drift away, the other responds.

08.06.24
misc. notes

-laurel nakadate
-japanese acid folk
-hallucinatory gorge
-snowbleed / slowbleed
-gladiolus (or ‘sword lilies’)
-fearful avoidant attachment
-turn soft & lovely anytime you have a chance

-”pines and pines and the shadow of pines” (Robert Service)
-”rippling with torment, raises a pale bone” (Kim Hyesoon via Don Mee Choi)

08.07.24

I’ve been waitressing for some time now, and maybe six months ago, I had this interaction with a table that still eats away at me. It went like this—
I approached the table, two elderly couples on either side, introduced myself with my name, and then without hesitation they ask “Ok Shaelah, what are you famous for?” Startled, I reply, “I’m just a humble waitress…”
Crickets for a few moments before one of them clarifies, they were asking what the restaurant is famous for. Not what I’m famous for. Really missed the ball there.

Built Interiors

sometimes it’s—
milkweed, silkworms

the way light catches
on that still lake

verdant fields
and lazing cattle

my dad sending
pixelated videos of wind.

all of this to
stave off time

which contracts
once wounded.

helpless, I’ve assembled
a tapestry—

timeless interiors
I can only touch
from outside the glass.