I got lost in a fifty-word essay and wandered off in the cold. The hallways are high and white and it's like I'm still waiting to come down. "This is the hardest thing I've done all night," I say, and at this hour all I can really do is opt for economy of gesture over overdisclosure.
No one worries about the cracks in windows here, and the North is finding all my weak spots. I'm clinging to the bees in her hair, but it's still yours and you're gone and the ugly shit avalanche is building up again in my line of sight. I have to step out and freeze up before I can confront anything again.
Now you're pouring tea into your peppered eyes, waiting for the bequests to come through, waiting for the the favor to fall on you. It's part hopeless, particularly quiet, still cold but not as bad as it could be. Someday frugal living will pay you back, but until then lies will set you free.
Twisted purple girl, you're just a pale shade of rrrriolet. Don't you ever dare get the wrong idea. Honey, you'll never really know how to make plain vanilla delicious all the way through.
Here comes two of you
Which one will you choose?
One is black and one is blue,
Don't know just what to do
- The Velvet Underground, "Beginning to See the Light"
Man, it used to be that if my picture was attached to your blog post, I could understand it...
ReplyDeletei would like to like you less.
ReplyDeleteHow's that, Mystery Commenter?
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure, mystery blogstress. where's the fun in an internet crush?
ReplyDelete