When finally,
with my carefully crafted and dearest green thoughts,
Jinxed, your dreams, will come crashing,
Unraveled you'll knock at my door
wetting the soil with your tears
And the tears will be gold, and gold will be
tears and gold,
and sweetest to me, your flesh.
---
In Italian, to "owl" someone is to wish for their misfortune. A shared pain is half a pain, and a shared joy is double a joy; but I struggle to quantify that small, prickly pleasure you can feel by dragging someone down.
About the Creator
M.
Half-time writer, all time joker. M. Maponi specializes in speculative fiction, and speculates on the best way to get his shit together.
Author of "Reality and Contagion" and "Consultancy Blues"
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