I find myself thinking about us all the time these days. I have fingers in my brain that won't allow me to let you go.
I remember, every day, that I am alone in this garden. In this garden, where you are Violet and I am your Daisy. You keep crushing and crushing and crushing me. I have these wounds blooming beneath my skin. I have often wrapped new skin around to protect you from them. I cannot tell anymore where my flesh really begins and the tumour that is us, leads. You are gone now and I am Daisy and only Daisy. People who pass by this garden usually miss me. I am plain like that. But when the sun hits me, my leaves gleam green, I turn translucent white and the faintest purple smudges glare softly out of me.
Edit:: Blogger has failed me now too many times to count. Considering changing residence. Putting that aside however, I wanted to say that this is a work-in-progress and that I am and have been inspired by the story of Daisy and Violet Hilton and Marissa Nadler. As often happens when one reveals influences, I will fall short. But I find their story so terribly tragic and moving I must I must write about them. And us. One day, I will write (better hopefully) about us.
this morning I feel you like I feel my skin. just there.
And I steal this happily from Irigaray:
Already, I carry you with me everywhere. Not as a child, a burden, or a weight, no matter how loved or precious. You are not within me. I do not contain you or retain you in my stomach, my arms, or my head. Nor in my memory, my mind or my language. You are just there, like my skin.