Susan Scutti
nightfall you sit in a room peopled by fictions while outside thunder sounds like splitting wood your daydreams resemble faces in the windows of a passing bus it is the forgotten anniversary of an unremembered encounter with a complex personality and afterward what remained was lifted and placed on a high shelf for years you have succeeded in evading recollection yet without your knowledge or permission it has woven itself into the fabric of your temperament and so you are compelled to begin an argument of hatchery: Is connection necessary? Why him? meanwhile your family meanwhile your family and their values like unavoidable purchases the email you receive from your sister ends with a phrase: “I will pray for you.” her prayers pursue you like official documents, her prayers intercede on your behalf, you are a stamp in her passport of good intentions with nothing more to do your brain imagines her brain what was born in her left hemisphere travels the corpus callosum to the right where it resides redeemed within a foreign lobe and so you sink into a fissure, you creep among the crevices and disguise yourself as shadow among synapse
