We always knew it would come to this -
dividing lines, long time possessions spilt
out over our new found boundaries, possession
clutters our tiny space as my obsession
strangles your beautiful face, your obsession
strangled my beautiful face, how intricately
I have made you, monster born, our ugly
offspring, stubs for wings, stones for eyes,
bleeding from her belly.  Any daughter we have
will ascend from Copernicus and Galileo,
a fragile image of shattered lights, but this night
we bore a monster and killed it, terrified,
broke the neck of our own baby, opened up
her veins, borrowed her blood.  And baby, we
screamed, this is what love is, this is what
we promised you, this is what we were given.
And baby, we scream, you will never see daylight.

Fern Capella is a radical idealist who does what is least expected at the least expected moment. she is riding the illusory wave of a series of brutal lessons from the universe, and spinning from her circles and turns out of space. she sings and writes poems and rarely pretends to be much older than three years of age.