Even though
time have rendered
her love obsolete
I still live inside
the four walls of my deceit
DE-LETE and re-peat.

we live behind palace walls

“I’m in love,”  I said, sighing into the fall-like, Paris afternoon, “I have to admit it.”

My 85 year old uncle Remy, gently stirring a pitcher of American martini he was conjuring, said, “You should marry an insignificant lawyer - if you’re going to have a cross-class love affair.”
Uncle Remy was a lawyer, of sorts, once.

“I think you’re leading the witness,” I said, looking down at my shoes.
“I’m in love with my Havaianas,” I clarified - my new, white, square-toed flip-flops.
“Besides, no one thinks in terms of class any more - and Peter and I are NOT an asymmetrical match or relationship or whatever.”

But it got me thinking. Half, or more, of what Uncle Remy says is politically incorrect. And I don’t judge him harshly..

I wrote, last week, about a guy who
(gasp) told me he found me attractive
like it was some crisis.

Hadn’t I schemed to get with Peter? (my bf).
And hadn’t he admitted that he’d schemed to get with me?

Was I ready to diagnose this guy as a walking red flag
- for a gentle admission of interest?
Because he's a big, intimidating guy?

What are the small, social rituals
we’re allowed to use - to signal desire?
Sure, buying someone a drink at a bar
- but what else? It’s a Catch-22.

Must every comment face the court of
public opinion, verbal consent protocols,
uni regulations and the behavior authorities?
Should we ban serendipity and spontaneity too?

Monday morning came and I didn’t ask to change seats
I moved my pencil back - a little.
He actually could use a bit more room than me.

I smiled a little, asked him about his weekend,
there’s no use in being unfriendly.
His name is Jacques (Jack).
.
.
Songs for this:
So Sorry by Lola Young [E]
The Hardest Part by Olivia Dean

Walls dampen the chatter
overlapping, overwhelming, pulling me down
I'm drowning in the noise.

Slowly, my will replenishes
as I am ready to move
the walls will not allow it.

The walls have turned from my repose to my captor.

Our guards keep out, the hurt and healing, 
When we meet, shrouded in protective walls. 
Each awaits the other to take the first step, 
Both carrying wounds and too afraid to fall.

I will never again let you through my wall.
As a matter of fact, maybe never to anyone at all.
To my problems you would call,
Kept you enthralled.
And when I would stall,
Your prying would keep its crawl.
So I would fall,
To your appall.
And you would throw it in a ball,
Down the hall.
I was left to haul,
Into a shattered ball,
What you would keep cruelly mauled.
So up went my wall.
Are you really appalled?
That now I won’t open to anyone at all?

Listen... I know you're upset-

Upset? Darling I'm far more than "Upset" with you.

If you would just listen-

What reason does she have to lemon? You've started blocking them all again. We can't go back to what we were.

Alex I'm trying to get better.

Getting better means getting rid of us then?

That's not what I said.

Liam, you do realize over half the system is gone? Merged, dormant, fading away. We can barely keep up now.

I've tried to take on responsibilities. As has Sunny and Eclipse. But we can't keep doing this. We still need help. YOU need help.

I'm sorry.

Your apologies are worthless.

Nicole, don't send him spiraling again. Ares just got us let out.

Hey, you wanted help.

Look, I have to watch littles now, Liam just... Stay close to front.

I'll have willow watch you.

...