by Nina P. Honorat
On the night of April 4, 2099 the not-yet
defendant will cause irreparable damage
to my heart. I know this for I have cross-
examined the causes of my trauma
and they’ve all confessed to withholding
the path to a calmer sea of thought.
Under false pretenses you will
steal custody of my mental faculties,
rendering me a de-fanged giddy pool
of rainbows. In absentia, I accuse you of hurt
not yet perpetrated; I rob us both
of a future not yet written; I murder the
possibilities of unveiling, of shedding putrid
skin that no longer serves me.
There is a fiduciary duty of care to my soul
I have long refused to carry. When the pendulum
swings, it takes time for equilibrium to be reached.
I am not hopeful you will wait so long –
but I have white dreams of injuries
smoothed over from the passage of time. Always
Time. The only god I fear is Time –
even after begging and rituals and sacrifice
he remains a stone-cold presence with
the same verdict
Who is judge and who is jury?
If I crack my skull open to you
will you still love me? 2099 is far
but near. I would like to see you then.
This collection of citations is a
reflective pool – a mandala of
broken coloured glass – the velvet
embrace of a battle that need not
happen. Think of my pleas as a
disclosure of how much there is to
lose. I speak in rhymes to the
gale, sending this missive,
wishing you weren’t long gone.
— from Juniper Volume 3, Issue 1