heartbreaking work of staggering genius.i liked your smile even before i knew you. i admired your speech, your swagger, your intent look when focused on language, all from afar. but then we met, and everything was different. i admired those same things, but others crept in. your taste in things like music and literature and food, your talents, the way you said things. i think even to this day i hardly know your mind but i admire that too, nonetheless. i think i always have, even upon first sight, and i think i always will.
it's like when soda burns all the way down.
one time i had a dream that i was in a park somewhere that didn't exist and a group of children were playing hide and seek. they huddled around a tree and all but one of them flee'd to go hide while the seeker lay his eyes behind is hands and his hands against the tree. i heard him saying "one, am i dreaming? two, am i dreaming? three, am i dreaming?" he got to one-hundred twenty four and slowly backed from the tree and looked right at me. he looked straight thro
Catharsis | ix.a.
Raquel is bulb. She is constricted to a glass cage and metal wires and switches. Raquel doesn't control her life. There is another force that makes her live, and then kills her. Day by day she is slaughtered without thought from her murderer.
Raquel is a fire. She is powerful, bright, admired. Raquel can be small but hardly insignificant. However, she likes to burn big. Once she took out a forest and never wanted to turn back, to leave, to stop leaving a path of smoldering destruction. But alas, a rain came, and Raquel was put out until the next lightening strike.
Raquel is light. Raquel is seamless.
Annabelle."It's just life, Annabelle," I turned and leaned on my elbow to face her.
She lifted a lighter to the cigarette hanging freely from her lips and I watched her bare back curving forward with intensity. When the fire went out, she blew smoke at the window and lay down on the bed. My eyes traveled over her nude figure; small, perfect breasts. A flat stomach with visible rib cage, a narrow waist with visible hipbones.
"What's life got to do with it anyway," she mumbled around her cigarette.
"Well, nothing" I whispered, crawling over to her.
Catharsis | viii.a.
Raquel is in a memory. It's a Sunday morning; she and her lover had just engaged in glorious morning sex, and were now cuddling in the nude. Her lover gently caresses her hair, the nape of her neck, her shoulder, her side, her hip, her thigh. Raquel's finger tips take a stroll down collar bone lane and she cannot take her eyes off of theirs. Their legs are intertwined and her love seems to breathe in her face. They kiss her forehead, then each eye, next her nose, and then her lips. In an instant Raquel steals their thoughts with a swift extinction of any gaps, and the flick of her tongue. They go off on another fruitful journey beneath the covers.
Raquel is in a memory. It's Sunday, at noon; she and her lover finally separate their skin and so they can go to fix her food. She wraps herself in the bedspread and walks to the doorway where she leans against the frame, watching the kitchen intently.
They bring back a plate of toast with blackberry jam and two mugs of coffee. She and
Catharsis | vii.Raquel is sleeping in the morgue. Her eyes lifeless and skin cold to the touch, she doesn't breathe. The blood is resting in her veins - cells no longer multiplying or dying, her hair no longer growing, her heart no longer pumping, lungs no longer functioning. But Raquel isn't bothered. Raquel is sleeping in the morgue. She is dreaming of days on a mountainside with a cup of coffee and a good novel; exploring a city of coral reefs; road tripping with her best friend from one side of a continent to the other. She's finally where she wants to be. Raquel is sleeping in the morgue. Raquel is dead.
Catharsis | vi.Raquel is an escape artist. She is held captive in a jail cell, but alas, she has discovered a method of self release. The bar furthest to the left is loose. Raquel discovered this in a sad attempt to squeeze out between it and the bar next to it - but it paid off, nonetheless! For a week straight she would wiggle the bar at night to loosen it more and more, so that on this lovely day she could wiggle it right out of it's place. With that bar gone, the gap was big enough for Raquel to slide right out, as quiet and unnoticed as a church mouse. Freedom was grasped in her deep breaths, and her crooked smile was full of well deserved pride.