Filed as X

In Emulation of Rita Mae Reese’s Intercession

For and against aliens.
Those who are squelched by the government and misrepresented in media.
Against those that morph and spew green poisonous bile, upon being
punctured at the axis of the neck.

For Beyond The Sea and Scully resembling Clarice.
Starling and Starbuck braided together by the words of psychopaths.
Against belittlement of the truth.

For cases that lead us to strange nooks and crannies of America,
and even stranger realities.
Against chasing each other into oblivion in the middle of Midwestern cornfields.

For Dana, and the absence of first names during conversations.
Against desert filled road trips in escape of prosecution.
Against unrightful deaths of the innocent.

For Emily and her brevity.
Against tainting yourself with ergot.
Against elastic band pantsuits that are one size too big.

For Fox, and for his father and mother, who failed at parenting.
For flashlights penetrating an abyss of darkness.
Against fires that burn down our home, even when home is the FBI’s basement.

For government upheaval and fear of God.
Against ghosts of our past and present, those that surface in the middle of a dream or in the middle of an autopsy.

For healing tattoos and bullet wounds.
For holding onto one another as the ice below breaks.
Against heretics and ill-placed humor in rainy cemeteries and stuffy funeral homes.
Against having to bury each other, either one year down the road or five.

For intelligence agencies and investigations of the supernatural,
extraterrestrial, and just downright weird.
Against illnesses that creep their way into the upper right crevice of your nose cavity.

For justice and judgy local law enforcement.
Against juggling too many bureaucratic matters without a chance for breath.

For kind lies.
Against demon-faced killers.
Against Krycek, and the severance of his hand.

For love that is agape, phileo, eros, and storge.
For love that cracks but never breaks.
Against lying in words when the truth is palpable on each other’s facial expressions.

For Mulder and his relentless pursuit of truth.
Against the gun that took Melissa’s life, sliding through the crack of a door,
shattering a soul filled with mystic wisdom.

For never giving up, and never knowing what to expect.
For losing nine minutes, even when time is a universal invariant that can’t just disappear.
Against Never Again and it not being all about you, Mulder.

For oral fixation with sunflower seeds, and being one in five billion.
Against ogling each other and not confessing to sins.

For perfectly filed nails and endless paperwork.
Against prosecution at the hands of government men perpetrating falsehood.

For quizzing each other about the oddities of life, that existed before them
and will continue to exist after them.
Against quitting.

For reverence to a gold cross that hangs around your neck, even when you don’t know why you still wear it.
Against revoking the right to motherhood and adoption.

For Scully, our saint of skepticism.
For Skinner and his eventual siding with the truth.
Against the smoking man and his constant stomping of the dirty facts.

For touches that say more than words ever can.
Against trying and still failing.

For senses of urgency.
Against unhealthy obsessions and being married to the work.

For the victims and being on their side, always.
Against voodoo dolls that can’t seem to vanish and flirty vampires.

For growing up on the west coast and memories of pacific waves.
Against wielding guns at each other, blinded by paranoia and without trust.

For the files that go under X and remain unsolved.
Against xenophobia and not realizing that the worst of humankind lies within your borders.

For young children afflicted by the anxieties of older generations.
For owning each other’s youth.
Against yelling that goes nowhere and yanking the threads off a new suit.

For the zeitgeist that is the end of the twentieth century.
Against zombies, but somewhat for as their actions lead to a well-earned kiss.

For each other in the end,
always there,
on some sector of America that’s barely palpable on a map.

Transcending television screens and time.

p.s.

i love this show SO MFING MUCH

{photo credit does not belong to me}

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