Our Genius

It is not Salem’s fault. How can it be? – I am a part of this, just as much as he is. –

Yet all of this we have won – through our genius - feels so brittle. – As if the glass is about to crack, the snickers will not go away. And I seem - how appropriate this seeming is – in this process of dissociation – to be retreating

Going back into my box.


Hajda alone. Hajda crying.

Why am I in tears?