V. in love

[bandwraith at aol.com]

Is V. in "love" the same v as in "live"? OK, in
order to slip into the word "love", she has to
skip her period- but that can happen when you
fall in love, no? Sometimes happens when you
fall in fun, but shouldn't, either way, if you're
careful. Love, like any intoxicant, though, can
make you lose your head.

Point is, all through the noVel, she's been aloof-
not really a letter, not willing to enter into any kind
of a word, not really a word, herself (like "I", e.g.),
just V- period. But at some point, she develops
desire for self-definition, which must come from
outside of her aloofness, by definition.

This is a chink in her armor. This is the first step
toward becoming generic- just another letter,
capable of multiple not just dual usages, in
any number of words- live, lave, Louve, move,
trove, verify, etc, etc,. Vaticinations of things to
come, if she succumbs to the temptation of
being in "love".

Once in love, she can never again be just V. No,
she must forever say goodbye to that uniqueness.
She will, forever after,  be typical- "a" v, "the" V, no
matter, as the need arises, a used and useful copy.

Just like any letter searching for others to join up
with, in a word, a phrase, with luck, a passage in
some famous text, but perhaps just a trifling email,
or block of spam, left unread on some hardrive
poisoning some godforsaken landfill- wasted, with
no special meaning waiting to be revealed beneath
her skirts, she will desire companions with which
to share her loneliness. She will become socialized

No longer a virgin, a generic slut of a letter, but just
a letter, she will become available for reproduction
at whim. Once, of course, there was redemption-
at the hands of celibate monks, working by hand, in
candlelight, for the greater Glory. That all changed
with Gutenberg, when reproduction became
mechanical, and the last trace of her "aura" was
left behind, like a minature icon on the shelf of a
Vatican coffee shop.

Love. In small homeopathic doses...