why is it now
though i think i knew
understood it in the end
the pull of this
force by something other
than magic
that maybe i can heal it over
by the press of her hips to mine
the tangle of her fingers
in my hair
and the tug as she pulls
me to her
fingers locked to the collar
of my shirt
as she takes me down
out
across the sheets
and in the end
this is fantasy
smoke along the shallow curve
of my back
the trace of my gaze
up her legs until
i reach her breasts
and look away
funny though
for by the end of it
i had to unpack it all
trace my face in the mirror
and dig deep enough
the squeeze the valve
of my heart open
and push all the blood
out across the floor
because
i am sleeping
with him
his teeth a bite along
the edge of my skin
his fingers digging into my hips
my arms clinging to him
as i whisper (i love you,
i love you, i
love you) in an attempt
to spread this truth
out along the axis of
my heart
and i'm still watching her
Showing posts with label bisexuality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bisexuality. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 November 2013
Friday, 9 August 2013
Kissed Her
I can feel the bruises forming beneath the sockets of my eyes, the lids heavy with the tears I haven’t managed to spill yet as I let my lashes flutter softly in an attempt to close. She’s smiling as she waves at me.
The blue of her dress matches his tie and the enraptured glow in her eyes as Kirsten pulls them over to the side of the arena for a photo. Everyone is just milling about now, laughing, trying not to spill food on their clothes and wishing that the committee had been smart enough to provide chairs. They probably thought it’d be too difficult to provide chairs for two hundred and fifty teenagers in addition to the food.
We’re all just waiting for the final call now so we can put the gowns over our prom attire and start the ceremony.
I look towards my date, who’s in conversation with a girl who was in our math class. We’re dressed in a loosely matching fashion, both in complementary shades of green that could mean we’d planned it or it was accidental. It was accidental by the way; I chose my dress to complement hers. She doesn’t know though.
And I intend to keep it that way.
I watch her detach herself from his arms, laughing as he kisses her lightly on the lips, his fingers lingering on her waist as she turns and starts over towards me. “Sarah, take another photo with me.” This is a demand, not a request. I pull my camera out of my matching purse and hand it over to Kirsten, who’s now been unofficially designated the night’s photographer.
I wrap my arm around her waist and squeeze gently, not enough for Kirsten to detect as she fumbles, trying to balance three cameras at once. It’s still enough for her to notice though, as her expression freezes in a large smile.
“Don’t,” she whispers, “Not now.” Her breath is in my hair, her right earring softly scraping my cheek as she turns to meet my eyes.
“Then when?” I mutter under my breath as I reach up to adjust one of the loose curls of her hair. She doesn’t answer. The flash goes off and one of the chaperons starts yelling for everyone to get into their gowns.
She squeezes my hand reassuringly as she lets go to retrieve her camera from Kirsten and I feel the ring on her left hand bite into my fingers before she lets go.
There’s ten minutes before the ceremony starts.
“We shouldn’t,” she gasps. I don’t answer but continue running my fingers through her hair, tracing the lines of her face and the curve of her lips. The basement is dark and the movie is playing loud enough to cover any sounds that might travel through the heating pipes. My brother is in the garage with his guitar, trying to rally the half of his band that bothered to show up for practice. My parents left for the movies an hour ago.
We’re practically alone.
This is the second time we’ve kissed. The first one doesn’t count because we’d both been drunk and it’d been a dare. Plus her boyfriend had been watching.
Her hands slowly curl inwards, clutching my thighs as I lean forward and softly brush my mouth against hers.
“Again,” she whispers as I pull back.
“Again,” I mumble against her mouth as she lifts her hands up, tangling them in my hair, pulling me back towards her.
I have no idea where my parents are seated in the arena. I’d told them to sit on the left so they’d be able to see my face as I walk over to shake hands with the principal and receive a fake diploma. The government will mail us out the real ones sometime in the middle of august after all the high school graduation examination results have come back. In the mean time we get a piece of paper with our name stating we’re a part of the graduating class and are allowed to take part in the after party.
We manage to shuffle our way into our seats, aiming for a semblance of control. We’ve barely found it as the opening speech ends and the first name is called. Ten seconds later the first beach ball appears.
I’ve found where she’s sitting, in the middle of the opposite side of the stage, at the end of her row. She claps wildly as her boyfriend crosses the stage, the speaker droning on about his plans after graduation. I try to blur them over in my mind.
I only want to watch her for as long as I can.
We’re now on our third beach ball and we’re only half way through the ‘c’s. The others were confiscated as quickly as the teachers could manage. I have no idea how many more we’re going to go through. It looks like it’s going to be a long night.
They call her row and now I’m counting down until she crosses the stage. The girl three people before her trips over her heels on her way up the stairs. She sits up laughing, stands and takes a bow before she stumbles over to receive her diploma.
Two left.
One.
“This has to end.” She sits up, drawing my blankets over her breasts as she turns back to me and frowns. I’m still smiling from the aftershocks though. She’s naked, willing and in my bed. Things have been going perfectly.
Well, they were.
“What?” Even to my ears that sounded hollow.
“You know,” she whispers, “This.” She waves her left arm, the one that isn’t holding up the blanket, in a wide circle to encompass the two of us in my bed. The sight of her nipples as the blanket slips isn’t enough to even out the tone of her words. Besides, I know she didn’t plan that on purpose.
I sit up beside her, gritting my teeth. “Give me a good reason why.”
“I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“I knew that. You knew that. Didn’t stop us the first time.” Or the second. And the third. “What makes it different now?”
“Sarah, I can’t handle this anymore.” Her eyes are wide and from the way the blue in them shimmers I know she’s about to cry. I reach over to put my arm around her shoulder but she shrugs me off.
“I can’t handle the sneaking around. I didn’t expect it to go this far.”
“Don’t tell me this.”
“This needs to end Sarah.”
“It this because we’re friends? Or because we’re both women and you’ve decided you like men better?”
She glares at me. “I don’t even know what to call our relationship Sarah,” she hisses. “All we seem to do is sleep together.”
All the late night movies, all the texts, phone calls, notes in class, all the laughter whips through my head. “That’s not true.” I whisper.
“Sarah, I feel like we’re fuck-buddies,” she says softly.
I feel like she’s slapped me. “I love you.” I whisper as I slowly take her hand and trace my fingers through hers.
“You don’t mean that.” she whispers, “Not like that.”
“Will you just listen to me!”
She shakes your head and slip out of bed before I can tighten my grip on her hand. “He asked me to marry him Sarah. I said yes.”
As I look up at her standing naked in front of my bed, hair tousled, fading hickies left from him trailing up her neck, I feel like I’ve been sicker punched in the gut. She’d told me that I couldn’t leave marks on her.
I finally understand why.
“Emily Collins.” And she’s walking. Hand outstretched to shake the principal’s as the other one tucks her diploma under her arm. I can hear her father and her brothers’ yelling in the background and her mother crying as she walks down the aisle, smile radiant, waving to the crowd.
And I’m laughing and clapping as the tears start to slip down my cheeks. She’s walking, one arm raised in a triumphant wave of victory, the flash of her ring from the arena lights a glint out of the corner of my eyes. I can’t quite manage to hold it in.
It’s all crashing down around me. The scent of her perfume, the scrape of her teeth along the curve of my ear, the press of her lips against mine, the ring of her laugh in my ears, the curve of her smile, the weight of her breasts in my palms and the unspoken misunderstood expectance of a promise.
It’s all finally over.
The blue of her dress matches his tie and the enraptured glow in her eyes as Kirsten pulls them over to the side of the arena for a photo. Everyone is just milling about now, laughing, trying not to spill food on their clothes and wishing that the committee had been smart enough to provide chairs. They probably thought it’d be too difficult to provide chairs for two hundred and fifty teenagers in addition to the food.
We’re all just waiting for the final call now so we can put the gowns over our prom attire and start the ceremony.
I look towards my date, who’s in conversation with a girl who was in our math class. We’re dressed in a loosely matching fashion, both in complementary shades of green that could mean we’d planned it or it was accidental. It was accidental by the way; I chose my dress to complement hers. She doesn’t know though.
And I intend to keep it that way.
I watch her detach herself from his arms, laughing as he kisses her lightly on the lips, his fingers lingering on her waist as she turns and starts over towards me. “Sarah, take another photo with me.” This is a demand, not a request. I pull my camera out of my matching purse and hand it over to Kirsten, who’s now been unofficially designated the night’s photographer.
I wrap my arm around her waist and squeeze gently, not enough for Kirsten to detect as she fumbles, trying to balance three cameras at once. It’s still enough for her to notice though, as her expression freezes in a large smile.
“Don’t,” she whispers, “Not now.” Her breath is in my hair, her right earring softly scraping my cheek as she turns to meet my eyes.
“Then when?” I mutter under my breath as I reach up to adjust one of the loose curls of her hair. She doesn’t answer. The flash goes off and one of the chaperons starts yelling for everyone to get into their gowns.
She squeezes my hand reassuringly as she lets go to retrieve her camera from Kirsten and I feel the ring on her left hand bite into my fingers before she lets go.
There’s ten minutes before the ceremony starts.
“We shouldn’t,” she gasps. I don’t answer but continue running my fingers through her hair, tracing the lines of her face and the curve of her lips. The basement is dark and the movie is playing loud enough to cover any sounds that might travel through the heating pipes. My brother is in the garage with his guitar, trying to rally the half of his band that bothered to show up for practice. My parents left for the movies an hour ago.
We’re practically alone.
This is the second time we’ve kissed. The first one doesn’t count because we’d both been drunk and it’d been a dare. Plus her boyfriend had been watching.
Her hands slowly curl inwards, clutching my thighs as I lean forward and softly brush my mouth against hers.
“Again,” she whispers as I pull back.
“Again,” I mumble against her mouth as she lifts her hands up, tangling them in my hair, pulling me back towards her.
I have no idea where my parents are seated in the arena. I’d told them to sit on the left so they’d be able to see my face as I walk over to shake hands with the principal and receive a fake diploma. The government will mail us out the real ones sometime in the middle of august after all the high school graduation examination results have come back. In the mean time we get a piece of paper with our name stating we’re a part of the graduating class and are allowed to take part in the after party.
We manage to shuffle our way into our seats, aiming for a semblance of control. We’ve barely found it as the opening speech ends and the first name is called. Ten seconds later the first beach ball appears.
I’ve found where she’s sitting, in the middle of the opposite side of the stage, at the end of her row. She claps wildly as her boyfriend crosses the stage, the speaker droning on about his plans after graduation. I try to blur them over in my mind.
I only want to watch her for as long as I can.
We’re now on our third beach ball and we’re only half way through the ‘c’s. The others were confiscated as quickly as the teachers could manage. I have no idea how many more we’re going to go through. It looks like it’s going to be a long night.
They call her row and now I’m counting down until she crosses the stage. The girl three people before her trips over her heels on her way up the stairs. She sits up laughing, stands and takes a bow before she stumbles over to receive her diploma.
Two left.
One.
“This has to end.” She sits up, drawing my blankets over her breasts as she turns back to me and frowns. I’m still smiling from the aftershocks though. She’s naked, willing and in my bed. Things have been going perfectly.
Well, they were.
“What?” Even to my ears that sounded hollow.
“You know,” she whispers, “This.” She waves her left arm, the one that isn’t holding up the blanket, in a wide circle to encompass the two of us in my bed. The sight of her nipples as the blanket slips isn’t enough to even out the tone of her words. Besides, I know she didn’t plan that on purpose.
I sit up beside her, gritting my teeth. “Give me a good reason why.”
“I’ve got a boyfriend.”
“I knew that. You knew that. Didn’t stop us the first time.” Or the second. And the third. “What makes it different now?”
“Sarah, I can’t handle this anymore.” Her eyes are wide and from the way the blue in them shimmers I know she’s about to cry. I reach over to put my arm around her shoulder but she shrugs me off.
“I can’t handle the sneaking around. I didn’t expect it to go this far.”
“Don’t tell me this.”
“This needs to end Sarah.”
“It this because we’re friends? Or because we’re both women and you’ve decided you like men better?”
She glares at me. “I don’t even know what to call our relationship Sarah,” she hisses. “All we seem to do is sleep together.”
All the late night movies, all the texts, phone calls, notes in class, all the laughter whips through my head. “That’s not true.” I whisper.
“Sarah, I feel like we’re fuck-buddies,” she says softly.
I feel like she’s slapped me. “I love you.” I whisper as I slowly take her hand and trace my fingers through hers.
“You don’t mean that.” she whispers, “Not like that.”
“Will you just listen to me!”
She shakes your head and slip out of bed before I can tighten my grip on her hand. “He asked me to marry him Sarah. I said yes.”
As I look up at her standing naked in front of my bed, hair tousled, fading hickies left from him trailing up her neck, I feel like I’ve been sicker punched in the gut. She’d told me that I couldn’t leave marks on her.
I finally understand why.
“Emily Collins.” And she’s walking. Hand outstretched to shake the principal’s as the other one tucks her diploma under her arm. I can hear her father and her brothers’ yelling in the background and her mother crying as she walks down the aisle, smile radiant, waving to the crowd.
And I’m laughing and clapping as the tears start to slip down my cheeks. She’s walking, one arm raised in a triumphant wave of victory, the flash of her ring from the arena lights a glint out of the corner of my eyes. I can’t quite manage to hold it in.
It’s all crashing down around me. The scent of her perfume, the scrape of her teeth along the curve of my ear, the press of her lips against mine, the ring of her laugh in my ears, the curve of her smile, the weight of her breasts in my palms and the unspoken misunderstood expectance of a promise.
It’s all finally over.
Saturday, 11 May 2013
Tempest Part II
The day was dark, and all one could hear was the wind as it howled and tried to blow the trees back into the earth. The rain lashed against the ground carving out rivulets as the thunder boomed overhead.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista sat beside her.
The heavy clank of the game pieces as they moved across the board added to the symphony of general noise around her. Her clothes were damp from the rain as it leaked and seeped onto the wood of the porch, traveling forward searching for a target to acquire.
The rain had found her, for she was sitting in front of Vivienne as a barrier.
White knight took black rook. Black pawn took white knight. The game was a front, really, for it’s hard to play by yourself unless you’re really good. Krista wasn’t, but this way, she could keep watching.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista sat beside her.
Theo was in the house.
The rain kept pouring down with no intention of stopping.
She had no idea why they hadn’t moved inside when the storm started. Vivienne had wanted to keep on with the game, and had smiled as she always does. In that strange way that made Krista want to kiss her.
She loved Vivienne’s sincere smiles, for they were soft to the point of wanting to wrap them around your shoulders and fall asleep. Not the slight ones she always had imprinted on her mouth, for Vivienne seemed always resigned to whatever fate God handed out to her that day.
Adam called Vivienne a saint. Krista called her an angel.
Vivienne was an angel to her, and it didn’t seem fair that Theo got to keep her all to himself.
That wasn’t fair at all.
This wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be, for it was too old a feeling to be named. She hated Theo with a passion because of this. People shouldn’t own angels.
The black queen took the white queen. The white king fell down with an audible thud on the board.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck, her hair undone to bury her face under a cascade of ochre.
Krista sat beside her, slowly leaning forward to brush Vivienne’s hair away to reveal her lips.
It was something stupid that should never have happened, but it had opened a small door in her heart. She played back her favorite dream of a memory, in which she hoped Vivienne had kissed her. That day when she’d woken up, she was so embarrassed that she ran away immediately.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista was beside her as she leaned down and kissed Vivienne.
Theo stood in the doorway and watched.
Krista looked up and saw him after the kiss had ended.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked. Krista didn’t move as he walked over to her and wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling her up. She couldn’t think. She had no space left in her brain as he led her back into the house, both of them leaving Vivienne on the deck, still sleeping.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista and Theo were in the house.
He led her to a chair and she sat down. She watched him as he pulled the camcorder down from the wall and ripped the tape from it, shredding all the evidence.
“Do you hate me?” she finally asked.
He turned toward her and smiled softly, just like Vivienne always did.
“Why would I hate you?”
“I hate you, though,” she whispered. “I hate you so much. It’s not fair that you get to monopolize her. Why is she yours?”
“That’s good to know.”
He laughed softly as he turned and set the camcorder back into place. Then he turned to her.
“Krista. Do you love her?”
“What?”
The question dropped like a bomb, tearing through her in an instant. She hit him, hard. She heard the tearing of flesh as her nails gouged his face, leaving marks she knew would sting deep.
“That’s a good answer,” he laughed, and she turned and ran. She was running as far as her legs could take her, for she didn’t need to know this. She didn’t need to open the badly sealed hole in her heart.
Vivienne was on the deck, awake as her heart was slowly being shredded.
Theo was in the house, laughing wildly as tears ran down his bleeding cheeks.
Krista was running through the yard and out onto the street as she felt the ground crack beneath her.
And the rain kept pouring down, like it was the end of the world as the thunder boomed overhead.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista sat beside her.
The heavy clank of the game pieces as they moved across the board added to the symphony of general noise around her. Her clothes were damp from the rain as it leaked and seeped onto the wood of the porch, traveling forward searching for a target to acquire.
The rain had found her, for she was sitting in front of Vivienne as a barrier.
White knight took black rook. Black pawn took white knight. The game was a front, really, for it’s hard to play by yourself unless you’re really good. Krista wasn’t, but this way, she could keep watching.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista sat beside her.
Theo was in the house.
The rain kept pouring down with no intention of stopping.
She had no idea why they hadn’t moved inside when the storm started. Vivienne had wanted to keep on with the game, and had smiled as she always does. In that strange way that made Krista want to kiss her.
She loved Vivienne’s sincere smiles, for they were soft to the point of wanting to wrap them around your shoulders and fall asleep. Not the slight ones she always had imprinted on her mouth, for Vivienne seemed always resigned to whatever fate God handed out to her that day.
Adam called Vivienne a saint. Krista called her an angel.
Vivienne was an angel to her, and it didn’t seem fair that Theo got to keep her all to himself.
That wasn’t fair at all.
This wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be, for it was too old a feeling to be named. She hated Theo with a passion because of this. People shouldn’t own angels.
The black queen took the white queen. The white king fell down with an audible thud on the board.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck, her hair undone to bury her face under a cascade of ochre.
Krista sat beside her, slowly leaning forward to brush Vivienne’s hair away to reveal her lips.
It was something stupid that should never have happened, but it had opened a small door in her heart. She played back her favorite dream of a memory, in which she hoped Vivienne had kissed her. That day when she’d woken up, she was so embarrassed that she ran away immediately.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista was beside her as she leaned down and kissed Vivienne.
Theo stood in the doorway and watched.
Krista looked up and saw him after the kiss had ended.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked. Krista didn’t move as he walked over to her and wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling her up. She couldn’t think. She had no space left in her brain as he led her back into the house, both of them leaving Vivienne on the deck, still sleeping.
Vivienne was sleeping on the deck.
Krista and Theo were in the house.
He led her to a chair and she sat down. She watched him as he pulled the camcorder down from the wall and ripped the tape from it, shredding all the evidence.
“Do you hate me?” she finally asked.
He turned toward her and smiled softly, just like Vivienne always did.
“Why would I hate you?”
“I hate you, though,” she whispered. “I hate you so much. It’s not fair that you get to monopolize her. Why is she yours?”
“That’s good to know.”
He laughed softly as he turned and set the camcorder back into place. Then he turned to her.
“Krista. Do you love her?”
“What?”
The question dropped like a bomb, tearing through her in an instant. She hit him, hard. She heard the tearing of flesh as her nails gouged his face, leaving marks she knew would sting deep.
“That’s a good answer,” he laughed, and she turned and ran. She was running as far as her legs could take her, for she didn’t need to know this. She didn’t need to open the badly sealed hole in her heart.
Vivienne was on the deck, awake as her heart was slowly being shredded.
Theo was in the house, laughing wildly as tears ran down his bleeding cheeks.
Krista was running through the yard and out onto the street as she felt the ground crack beneath her.
And the rain kept pouring down, like it was the end of the world as the thunder boomed overhead.
Thursday, 9 May 2013
The Birds of Paradise Part II
All children grow up. That’s a fact of life.
You grew up too fast, I think, maybe because my life spun wildly out of control every now and then, causing me to neglect you and our friendship.
I can still remember when I fell in love with you.
You’d just turned nineteen.
Everybody else had just left for home, and you were sleeping on the porch, the wind blowing through your hair, a tangled mass of black that swirled around you, creating abstract patterns against the wood.
You were sleeping, and I did something stupid.
I used to play games in my head when I was a kid, where I would create a new world in which things were the way I wanted them to be.
I wanted you to be mine. And with that desire in mind, for I couldn’t get rid of it, I slowly let myself bend forward until our heads were touching.
You were perfect like the image of a painting, features symmetrically aligned in an attempt to ensnare and seduce.
I did something stupid.
I don’t remember making the decision, or moving to act. All I know is that I kissed you, and that was a stupid idea.
You were soft and sweet, just like a china doll with the red lips, white skin, and black hair all tangled up with mine, creating an earthy mix. You didn’t stir or make any sign that you’d woken up. I felt like my heart was going to burst into a thousand pieces any second.
Any second now, and I was going to be punished for my sins.
“Vivienne.”
I looked up with a start and saw Theo watching me from the doorway.
“Has everyone left?” I asked.
“Yes.” He smiled softly, like he always did.
“Do you hate me, Theo?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, even though I wanted to bite my tongue off and swallow it. Maybe then I could keep my mouth from acting on its own.
Theo was always smiling. He was always laughing, just like he was now. Almost like we weren’t married and he hadn’t just seen me kiss my best friend.
“Why would I hate you, Vivienne?’ he asked. “You’ve got a more logical reason to hate me.”
“Why would I hate you, Theo?” I asked.
He was already gone, though, leaving me there stunned, you still asleep beside me. Although thinking back, you could have been awake, seeing as I lost track of how long I sat there in shock.
“Hey Viv.”
I looked back and you were getting up. Your hair shielded your face so I couldn’t read your expression. “I’m gonna go, so I’ll see you later.”
“Alright.” And with that, you were gone as well, the screen door creaking shut behind you.
I don’t know how long I remained on the deck, wind pulling my hair free and your voice dancing in my ears, but eventually Yoselin dragged me inside to play dolls with her and Helena.
I needed to talk to Theo. I needed to bury myself in a pot and slam the lid on so nothing could escape. I needed to wake up and realize that I was in love with you.
I was in love with you.
I was in love with two people, and even now, I had no idea that they would both leave me so soon.
You grew up too fast, I think, maybe because my life spun wildly out of control every now and then, causing me to neglect you and our friendship.
I can still remember when I fell in love with you.
You’d just turned nineteen.
Everybody else had just left for home, and you were sleeping on the porch, the wind blowing through your hair, a tangled mass of black that swirled around you, creating abstract patterns against the wood.
You were sleeping, and I did something stupid.
I used to play games in my head when I was a kid, where I would create a new world in which things were the way I wanted them to be.
I wanted you to be mine. And with that desire in mind, for I couldn’t get rid of it, I slowly let myself bend forward until our heads were touching.
You were perfect like the image of a painting, features symmetrically aligned in an attempt to ensnare and seduce.
I did something stupid.
I don’t remember making the decision, or moving to act. All I know is that I kissed you, and that was a stupid idea.
You were soft and sweet, just like a china doll with the red lips, white skin, and black hair all tangled up with mine, creating an earthy mix. You didn’t stir or make any sign that you’d woken up. I felt like my heart was going to burst into a thousand pieces any second.
Any second now, and I was going to be punished for my sins.
“Vivienne.”
I looked up with a start and saw Theo watching me from the doorway.
“Has everyone left?” I asked.
“Yes.” He smiled softly, like he always did.
“Do you hate me, Theo?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, even though I wanted to bite my tongue off and swallow it. Maybe then I could keep my mouth from acting on its own.
Theo was always smiling. He was always laughing, just like he was now. Almost like we weren’t married and he hadn’t just seen me kiss my best friend.
“Why would I hate you, Vivienne?’ he asked. “You’ve got a more logical reason to hate me.”
“Why would I hate you, Theo?” I asked.
He was already gone, though, leaving me there stunned, you still asleep beside me. Although thinking back, you could have been awake, seeing as I lost track of how long I sat there in shock.
“Hey Viv.”
I looked back and you were getting up. Your hair shielded your face so I couldn’t read your expression. “I’m gonna go, so I’ll see you later.”
“Alright.” And with that, you were gone as well, the screen door creaking shut behind you.
I don’t know how long I remained on the deck, wind pulling my hair free and your voice dancing in my ears, but eventually Yoselin dragged me inside to play dolls with her and Helena.
I needed to talk to Theo. I needed to bury myself in a pot and slam the lid on so nothing could escape. I needed to wake up and realize that I was in love with you.
I was in love with you.
I was in love with two people, and even now, I had no idea that they would both leave me so soon.
Tuesday, 7 May 2013
You're a Movie Part II
I loved to play with camcorders.
It was the act of creating something permanent, something that could outlast me and the wishy-washy attitude I carried around with me like a fashionable handbag.
I’d set them up in random areas around the house. Then I waited to see how long it would take for people to find them, and what shots I could get before I had to take them down. My brothers would complain loudly to our parents when they discovered that I’d ‘accidentally’ taped parts of their experimentations with girls.
Film was my form of adolescent rebellion.
I kept it toned down, though, because as girl, I wasn’t supposed to have a large presence.
The camcorder is the perfect woman. She’s soft and compact and never speaks. She’s silent, as she listens to the world around her and takes note of everything that happens.
The dutiful, perfect wife.
And film was my lover until I got married at nineteen.
Now I sit back and watch the memories as they play over and over again on the small television screen in the dark.
I did something stupid and Theo forgave me, though Krista wasn’t as gentle. I watch my mistakes over and over with a dulled passion for justice.
It was stupid to try and attempt to keep those feelings of mine hidden, but I did and I tried to become a camcorder. The perfect woman for Theo when we got married.
Theo was a crystal statue’s lover as he touched me tenderly as to not cause me to shatter. He was too gentle as his presence slowly ingrained into and over my flesh. I loved the fact that eventually the only thing trapped in his vision was my reflection.
I was in love with Theo, there’s no question about that. I loved being near him, and the way we were together. Sometimes I pull out his tapes from their space under the stairs and watch them, trying to imagine that he’s still alive and with me, as opposed to lying in the graveyard up the hill. That’s the only way I can physically meet him now. When I go up the hill once a day and spread flowers across his tombstone.
I was in love with Theo, and he was in love with me, yet it was never enough.
It was never enough, but I could always hide that desire underneath the skin of a bubbling mountain, ready to explode. Krista and Theo left before my alarm could go off, though.
The one clip I watch over and over is the moment I let myself fall into hell. When I leaned over and stole a kiss from Krista while Theo was watching.
It was the act of creating something permanent, something that could outlast me and the wishy-washy attitude I carried around with me like a fashionable handbag.
I’d set them up in random areas around the house. Then I waited to see how long it would take for people to find them, and what shots I could get before I had to take them down. My brothers would complain loudly to our parents when they discovered that I’d ‘accidentally’ taped parts of their experimentations with girls.
Film was my form of adolescent rebellion.
I kept it toned down, though, because as girl, I wasn’t supposed to have a large presence.
The camcorder is the perfect woman. She’s soft and compact and never speaks. She’s silent, as she listens to the world around her and takes note of everything that happens.
The dutiful, perfect wife.
And film was my lover until I got married at nineteen.
Now I sit back and watch the memories as they play over and over again on the small television screen in the dark.
I did something stupid and Theo forgave me, though Krista wasn’t as gentle. I watch my mistakes over and over with a dulled passion for justice.
It was stupid to try and attempt to keep those feelings of mine hidden, but I did and I tried to become a camcorder. The perfect woman for Theo when we got married.
Theo was a crystal statue’s lover as he touched me tenderly as to not cause me to shatter. He was too gentle as his presence slowly ingrained into and over my flesh. I loved the fact that eventually the only thing trapped in his vision was my reflection.
I was in love with Theo, there’s no question about that. I loved being near him, and the way we were together. Sometimes I pull out his tapes from their space under the stairs and watch them, trying to imagine that he’s still alive and with me, as opposed to lying in the graveyard up the hill. That’s the only way I can physically meet him now. When I go up the hill once a day and spread flowers across his tombstone.
I was in love with Theo, and he was in love with me, yet it was never enough.
It was never enough, but I could always hide that desire underneath the skin of a bubbling mountain, ready to explode. Krista and Theo left before my alarm could go off, though.
The one clip I watch over and over is the moment I let myself fall into hell. When I leaned over and stole a kiss from Krista while Theo was watching.
Saturday, 7 July 2012
Imaginary Lover
Hey
Are you listening to me
I'm always listening to you
Despite the fact that I can
No longer hear
Your voice
I want to see you
Laughing
Just like your ghost
As she whispers in my ear
Of a memory I silenced
And my enjoyment of
Staining the two of us
Red
With a ticket down to
Hell
You're always nineteen
With your hair long and flowing
And bruises down your back
You're smiling
As you say you wish that we were
Siblings
A relation of some kind
For blood is more definite than
An unformed idea
Sometimes I think I'd love to
Kill
That thought
I don't want to see you crying
As you curl up on the grave
And I could almost see you
Falling down
Within the mix of grass and flowers
As they grew over your
Pretend corpse
Within the sun
I want to see you sleeping
On the deck
As you create an abstract image
Against the wood
I can pretend for now
That you're mine
While I bend down with our hair
Mixing
As I steal that one kiss
That damned me
I want you to fall in love
With me
I want you to be mine
But you never say those
Words to me
In the context I want to hear
Now you're gone
And I'll watch your grave
Day and in and day out
For a shred of movement
Or a memory
To prove that you're
Alive
You used to say you loved me
When we were alone
On the deck
With the wind as it blew
The scent of flowers past us
And up into the grave yard
You used to say you loved me
Like a sister
For we were both women
You see.
Are you listening to me
I'm always listening to you
Despite the fact that I can
No longer hear
Your voice
I want to see you
Laughing
Just like your ghost
As she whispers in my ear
Of a memory I silenced
And my enjoyment of
Staining the two of us
Red
With a ticket down to
Hell
You're always nineteen
With your hair long and flowing
And bruises down your back
You're smiling
As you say you wish that we were
Siblings
A relation of some kind
For blood is more definite than
An unformed idea
Sometimes I think I'd love to
Kill
That thought
I don't want to see you crying
As you curl up on the grave
And I could almost see you
Falling down
Within the mix of grass and flowers
As they grew over your
Pretend corpse
Within the sun
I want to see you sleeping
On the deck
As you create an abstract image
Against the wood
I can pretend for now
That you're mine
While I bend down with our hair
Mixing
As I steal that one kiss
That damned me
I want you to fall in love
With me
I want you to be mine
But you never say those
Words to me
In the context I want to hear
Now you're gone
And I'll watch your grave
Day and in and day out
For a shred of movement
Or a memory
To prove that you're
Alive
You used to say you loved me
When we were alone
On the deck
With the wind as it blew
The scent of flowers past us
And up into the grave yard
You used to say you loved me
Like a sister
For we were both women
You see.
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