Tales from the Sanguine Lure

        
            Your walls are bare stone,        
                  with windows empty of glass        
                  except the corner shard        
            singing melodies.        
         
         
They both could        
            feel the heat        
      of the lights.        
         
      [inaudible]        
         
"Okay...could you just, yes.        
      Perfect."        
         
      [inaudible]        
         
"If you would, could you        
      do a mic check?"        
"Yeah, yeah, check, check, one, two,        
      one, two."        
         
      [inaudible]        
         
"Mr. Verusamor. It really is        
      a pleasure. Thank you."        
"Thank you, Regina"        
      bowing a little,        
"call me Walter.    
   And the pleasure    
      is all mine.    
It is truly great what    
   you do here."        
"Thank you, Walter,"        
            brushing        
            the loose strands        
      behind her ear.        
         
"Now, Walter, where does        
      inspiration come from...        
      for you, what        
inspires you?"        
         
His widened eyes in wonder,        
      how to phrase it, "I guess...        
the same thing that inspires        
                  all of this,"        
      his arms outspread,        
      "inspires it to grow, to die."        
         
She nods in some vague sense.        
         
"We all exist as an inseparable whole,"      
         he says,      
      "being born, dying...        
            a mere portion        
      of an all-inclusive being."        
Shifting in her chair, reclining,        
      she nods, "yes, of course."        
         
Her eyes soften, "is it true  
      that you        
      used to live in an alley?"      
"I used to hang around some."        
"Really?"        
"I'll tell you this,        
            there are some people          
      that truly struggle in this world,        
some people        
            they really have it rough.        
So much pain in this world,        
            but they struggle on...        
You know."        
         
         
            A lone blackbird pecks at a feather        
                  upon a flaky wooden fence.        
         
         
"You are beautiful this evening,        
                  my friend"        
The sunflower responded, attentively        
            swaying.        
"I know you can hear me.        
            I will tell you        
            a secret."        
         
Caws from the fence        
                  as the blackbird leapt up        
                  diving out        
            into the blue.        
"You, a sunflower and me,        
            a man...just bodies.        
We are no different,        
                  you and I.        
I know you can hear me."        
         
         
            Every ocean,        
            the inlets, the islands, and every river,        
                  every lake -- only the rocking        
      wake of spotless waters.