So, if you read my blog at all regularly, you’ve probably noticed that I don’t usually work ahead. This means that I’m often working off half-formed ideas, making stuff up as I go along, improvising, etc. The unfortunate honest truth is that it also means I often don’t even recall the specific details of what I write.
If you don’t use wordpress, you might not know that it tracks your blog’s stats, showing you what countries you’re getting readers from, what posts are being read, what search terms are leading folks to your blog, etc. Today I got some views from Canada that came from someone googling, “define friendulate.” I could not believe I’ve ever used the term “friendulate” in a story, so I immediately started doing some sleuthing.
As the song says, blame Canada.
Anyway! Here’s some prose poetry about bones!
There’s a skeleton inside you.
There’s a you inside you, shining like pearl.
A you in the same shape as you but separate.
A you that existed before you, the scaffold upon which you were built.
A you of sharp edges where you have soft curves, of sharp claws where you have fleshy fingers.
A you that would never get tired. A you that would never get hungry.
A you that would never grow cold, never grow old.
A you of unbreakable stone, where you are weak flesh.
A you that will exist after you.
There’s a skeleton inside you. And it wants so desperately to get out.