THE WEAVE:
Lilith lays on the chaise lounge.
speaking into the walkie-talkie.
Vesta takes notes from her kayak,
in a rite-in-the-rain notebook…
"I want to be fun, but I'm just not fun, you know? I swim too deep. It makes me pasty. I look sick at the surface, and I burn like a vampire," Lilith whines. "Yeah," Vesta thinks about it, "you're like Wednesday Addams, on family vacation." "Gee, thanks," Lilith puffs. Vesta keeps on weaving the tale, over her, "-Hour 1, you just seem Dark and mild. By Hour 3, you're Lighting napkins on Fire, but you are doing it with this charming smile. And by Hour 13, you have planned an intricate homicide, in which you have hypnotized your victim into their active participation. As you recite obscure poetry, you conduct experiments on their brains. It's so you, but it's so not hot right Now." "There's a Doctor I know, who considers that quality entertainment," Lilith shrugs. "That's cool, are you like, finding your people then?" Vesta asks. "My people? What? Are we all in cults Now?" Vesta nods, "America has gotten too big. We lose all meaning, trying to be the same. CULTure is particular, to pockets and people. It makes sense to group yourSelves, with those who Light you up. I dunno, I thought maybe, you and this Doctor were in some kind of serial killer's support group." "I'm not a serial killer, you fucking asshole," Lilith retorts, gritting her teeth. "I know," Vesta breaks into a grin, "I'm just busting your balls. You deserve it after the whole, 'Vesta is a sad little penguin,' thing." "I thought you liked being a Selkie-Penguin," Lilith protests. "I do," Vesta concedes, "but you're still a dick, Wednesday."
Planetary Signatures 