Your birthday was the other day wasn't it?
I forgot. Then I remembered. Then I didn't feel anything at all.
There's a new veil between us isn't there?
There used to be a string, it was too long, and too tangled; but you were on one side and I was on the other. And for a while that was something, we had at least full range of motion, we could let go, and run, and fly to opposite ends, and use our hands to see how our faces had changed, and then lunge to re-claim our respective places on the line.
Well, that's unraveled now hasn't it?
Now we're stuck with these veils, like the kind you wear when you're catching bees, or avoiding bees to catch bee's honey, I don't know I've never done that.
And in this sea of gauze we've gotten turned around, there's no more direct flight, only infinite distance, and the monotonous buzz of a queen and her army.
Well, at least I always knew I was loved. Just like Chelsea Clinton always knew she was loved, just like that.
Happy Birthday,
Skin and Toast
P.S. How old are you anyway? Hmmm, you were forty when you had me, now I'm twenty eight, anybody got a calculator? Fetal alcohol syndrome is a bitch.
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