"Vesta!" Minthe nudges,
"Tell that story
you told us while making
sweet crepes, in the cold."
"Like I am now?"
Vesta says, slinging crepes
from a push cart, breath visible,
"And also, which
one? I tend to be
the feeling you get
when you read a book
in which you are
all the characters."
"The one about Justin
Beiber, freak," Minthe teases.
"They're often about
Justin Beiber, when we're shaking
our butts, and making treats
for the people. These kinds of things
just flow out of me.
They really are not good
cold, or leftover, but
I think I said something
about the song, 'What do you
mean,' where Persephone is
all like, 'She's having a trauma
response Justin, that's what
she means.'"
"-Right in front of you, V,"
says Persephone.
Vesta looks up, from her
cooking, into Persephone's eyes.
She waves her rosle around,
"Persephone! Hey, how are you?
Nutella crepe? It's hot, Here,
take it."
"Chill, you're totally right.
It's a trauma response.
No need to dance, around it.
And thanks, for the crepe, V,"
Persephone winks, and walks
back into the smoke
of the ferry's hub.
Suddenly, Athena
crashes out of the mist,
where Persephone vanished,
throwing up, onto Minthe,
standing at the register.
"I don't want to be Here,"
Athena says, as she wipes
her mouth, miserable.
Planetary Signatures 