The Wages, An Illustrated Story | 23. Songs and Parables | Beguiling Poets

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A line drawing in black-and-white, with one detail in gold. Renata and Brandy stand facing each other in the centre of the frame, each holding a glass of dark wine. Renata is leaning on a kitchen sink. They are surrounded by outlined glimpses of four other women who have trendy short hair and are facing away from Renata and Brandy at a crowded party, suggesting even more women out-of-frame. Renata is slightly taller than Brandy. Renata has high cheekbones and full lips, and curly black mid-length hair that is both free and suggestive of a pompadour or duck-tail. She is wearing a black tank-top with no bra, and a floral skirt. She has a swirly bracelet on her wrist, and an elegant tatoo on her upper arm that shows three crows flying over the bare branches of a tree. Brandy looks fashionable, but despite her funky earrings, Brandy's countrified style seems a little out-of-place at this downtown party of women with cropped and tousled hairstyles. Brandy's long dark hair cascades over one shoulder, and on her other shoulder, her black bra-strap is exposed where her scoop-neck top swoops down. Brandy tries to put a smile on her lips, and looks into Renata's dark eyes, but Brandy's eyebrows are raised and creased with a look of frought pleading. Renata does not look back into Brandy's eyes, but stares down at the only colour in the drawing -- the golden cross pendant that nestles in Brandy's cleavage. Renata frowns with distracted sadness, as if she is frozen for a moment while reliving the agony of many horrific memories. End of image description.

One woman I had a huge crush on was a poet named Renata. I was dazzled by her cheekbones and her beguiling iambic pentameter, and I think she liked me back. But she had spent her teens being sent by her parents for Christian anti-gay reprogramming, and my ongoing relationship with God tormented her horribly. If I won her love, I would have re-traumatized her on a daily basis. I was the one who backed off. I couldn’t stand the confusion that I represented to her, but I couldn’t change the true story of me.

With Joanne I had broken through, and ever since I had been working to show her the depth of my faithfulness, my faith in her, and in her talent. But now that I saw the pressures of the other band members’ resentments, I realized that as lovers Joanne and I had other problems too. I would struggle to keep her, but I had a feeling I was going to have a hard time taking control without taking control.

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