he didnt know himhe wanted to know him but circumstances didnt allow them to meet

and unmet now hell never know him

                                        because Alchemy died yesterday

he knew alchy was cherished

he knew alchy was anticipatedthat he made his girlfriends life happy every moment she spent at home with him after long arduous days of workworking with screwballs for screwballs contending with the fragile psyches of PhDs and doctors who believed their degrees entitled them to quasi-goddom

when she referred to those anonymous personalities devoid of any physical descriptions other than male or female he imagined old ruined spiderwebs that ought to be taken down out of ceilingcorners with a broom no respectable spider would fasten silk from their spinneret to one any more than a destitute person would seek wet cardboard to help fashion a refuge

alchy helped replenish her refill her heart and soul reopen her senses that she shuttered to withstand the awkward buffeting and direct assaults of mental health

They’re stealing my compassion.

They’re stealing my compassion. 

                                   when she told him that his blood iced in his veins her beauty had depth to the marrow of her bones she was kind she was considerate and to preserve herself recognising their assaults she entered a survival mode an armor which deflected the dull whips and slings and pointy arrows but despite it she still bruised still whirled images she was unfortunately privy to through her head 

she could not unsee what she saw 

unhear what she heard

she spared him

she laughed Poor alchy takes the brunt of my complaints he nibbles timothy hay fresh vegetables from my hand his muzzles tickles my palm and I feel my emotions and affections restored

What, what am I going to do now?

Any ideas?

Perhaps Survive  Thats what we dowho we are  

If I can help you need only ask

I have your back

she emailed him pictures of alchy the day she brought him home he looked like a miniature buffalo he automatically had his heart she wrote He’s my little buffalo. You’re my big buffalo. You’re not jealous, are you?

No

Were of the same herd same tribe

We both want your happiness

she was terribly unhappy 

he hadnt seen her yet but he knew her unhappiness would be evident in her facein her voice if someone cared to look and see

Time for a new pet! was the chorus at work

                                                  Assholes

happiness flows up in us through deep artesian wells

were responsible for our happiness

Time

A time will come her colours will return 

Time 

       desperately Time heals all wounds

1212 or 0012 & 1454,  Thursday,  7  2. 19

Free Wishing Well https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdWz2fbiSno