My Cardboard Balcony

Denouement by Belinda Roddie You said you loved her for the sapphires in her eyes, for the embers still glowing behind her smile, even when the largest flame of passion had burned away. You said you stayed with her so she, like a flower, could stay nourished and tended to. With each petal that drooped, a new one grew in with a kiss, though it was smaller and more fragile than its already delicate predecessor. You said she left you; you didn't leave her. And when she did leave, she broke the chandelier with a wail, splintered the mirrors with a fingernail, and left cracks in the wooden floor with the small heels of her glass shoes. After all, the sapphires were now dull, and the fire had been restoked, forging her anew into a whole new beast. Meanwhile, your gaze was the color of an onyx, and you sought out someone else to share that union in a field of white roses.

Nautical Beauty by Belinda Roddie The sea dragons were all different colors, shapes, and sizes.

Common Sense by Belinda Roddie It would only be rational if I left every word of you blurred and melted on the page. If I burned every book you wrote, emptied every poisoned cup you poured, shattered every mirror you hung up with a warped reflection so that I always saw your face instead of mine. Instead, I continue to pore over each story you told. I have sipped from each chalice as if I can build immunity to your toxins. And somehow, I have become accustomed to my visage appearing to me, oddly, somewhat like yours. There is no common sense left in this house of shadows. There's no music, no dancing, no meditation or introspection. I ran out of the supply years ago, and for some reason, I don't have the strength anymore to go and find more. As if I can make my own. As if you didn't deprive me of the ingredients.

Uh-Oh by Belinda Roddie And so the cleric fell in love with the artificer.

Pride Sequel by Belinda Roddie Fuck the Fourth of July: I'm celebrating Wrath Month instead.

This week, I am not focusing on my stories, but on the stories of those whose land was stolen from them. Read these Miwok stories and legends. Then read these Wintu stories and legends. Research what native land you live on. Listen to indigenous people's stories. Keep them alive.

Nothing To Celebrate by Belinda Roddie The fireworks are already going off. But for what freedom?