#hemic

It always starts with a mirror.

The sink is cracked and bloody. The only sound is the distant coughing of the air conditioner. Valerie stands there, as she has for a minute a day for the past few days.

Such odd days, she notes, as she continues to watch her reflection deteriorate.

The first day, her reflection’s surroundings were black.

The next, the not-her’s eyes would turn red with charcoal sclera.

The third, her clothes would change, as if blood had stained the soft baby blue a violent crimson.

Valerie was worried, truthfully. But who could she turn to? Certainly not Horatia—no, Horatia was loyal, yes, but she’d lose her mind with fear and likely break something. Val needed someone smart, not someone who pretended to be.

Hemic knows Vi is smart, far smarter than she is… the perfect person to blackmail into fixing her messes (at least in the scientific department).

So she threatens to kill people Vi cares about in order to get her to build things for her she typically can’t.

Hawaii Employers’ Mutual Insurance Company, Inc. (HEMIC), the largest provider of workers’ compensation insurance in Hawaii, has announced a successful migration of its core business systems to Guidewire Cloud. This move is part of HEMIC's digital-first strategy to enhance the online experience for customers and agents. HEMIC, which has been a Guidewire self-managed customer since 2016, has also transferred several of its applications, including Guidewire DataHub, InfoCenter, CustomerEngage, and ProducerEngage, to the cloud platform.

The migration to Guidewire Cloud not only simplifies IT operations for HEMIC but also allows the company to stay up-to-date with the latest technology and innovations from Guidewire. Additionally, it enables HEMIC to seamlessly integrate insurtech solutions available in the Guidewire Marketplace and PartnerConnect ecosystem, streamlining their processing workflows.

Furthermore, HEMIC is in the process of implementing a pricing model using Guidewire Predict, which will help enhance underwriting outcomes and improve the processing rate for new business quotes.

Roll with it? Hawaii insurer pulls workers’ comp coverage from medical marijuana dispensaries

Based on opinions from legal counsel, HEMIC has withdrawn workers’ compensation coverage from medical marijuana dispensaries in Hawaii. Read more here:: Property Casualty 360

my lover leaves me with hives deeply rooted

in the basin of my left collarbone, blood smudges

 resembling hemorrhaged valentine hearts in the smallest space below my right

earlobe, all of his love-making

directly resembling

the candied apparatus of the january sky

when the sun has yawned its last tongue and

a dark majesty has stolen over the heavens like

an embroidered tapestry of the most heavily wished-on bedclothes

 of every pair of fallen lovers

until it glistens with a moisture that heralds

 the next rain,

 the next thunder,

the next orgasm of starlight that burns a new

constellation into the backbone of the skeletal milky way,

the way my lover presses his fingers into my waist:

he an adolescent and I a sidewalk of fresh cement

 pliant to his pronoun.

Label me beauty, paint me a new array

of voices to speak as if my own, create in me a resounding big-bang

that will self-nourish all the things I have ever wanted to say

and more; what's more, tell me I am magnetic,

label me sweet bending bough I will be your hyphen.

For every line break.

For every post-positive unspoken, insert me in.

Root me with blemishes of all that I am and

all that you unearth.

He tells me I walk the heavens tonight,

from flagpole to lamp with his liquid silhouette at my side,

flouncing in the flicker; cityscapes

are constellations from the highest peak.

The air is thin here, at the apex.

Glisten me proud, shower me open.

He buries his bulbs like the aspirations of love itself, embodied

 in floating orbs of liquid light,

in each rut,

in each furrow of rib,

in every knuckle scar from hitting walls,

between my breasts where small x's reside like knife point,

on the lips:

breath.

press.

burial.

He loosens my braid, drapes the length of my

torso with the auburn-in-sunlight corpse of my hair,

fingers the 2.5 inches of split ends, rolls each and every one against his thumb

 telling me never to prune myself again. 

He presses our bodies deep deep deeper into the ripples,

the puddles of quilts as if to leave our senses

transcribed in triplicate:

 in 2014 she laid in bed ready

to swallow the obsidian

of each burned out streetlamp, and he found her there.

In 2014 the world turned catatonic, white and flurried and

suicidal,

tearing itself open in warming rivers,

in shattered ice lakes,

in fresh-water glaciers plunging into salt,

but they two did not.

He labors against the thought of leaving me at

the alarm sound. At the tidal wave torn free from time.

 He leaves me with hemic stretch marks

taped to my thighs from missing him and his miles.

I wonder what it is I, myself, and this love, inorganic, leave

on my lover.