My Cardboard Balcony

And Seven Walked This Road by Belinda Roddie And seven walked this road by candlelight with serpents acting as their circulets, a single file procession through the night as they trekked for unstable riverbeds. They drank a cup of water, two cups, three cups, and they wiped their mouths with long-haired grass. Their coiled crowns all nipping for their knees with dripping fangs and empty eyes like glass. The seven sang a song over a fire and brewed a potion for the king to drink. And then they wandered on. They never tired, their skin bright gold, their eyes a heinous pink. The seven walked the road by candelight. They hated day; they only walked at night.

"Why did he leave?" He left because he didn't care. "But still..." He didn't want anything to do with me. "But still..." He wished me dead. "But still..." He never loved me. "But still..." But still what? "I loved him." I know, sweetie, I know...but still.