down in me

I can’t worry about your Greek tragedies and your Shakespearean proclamations. Give me an hour in a room with rainbow colours and a warm sensation any day. When you wake up to your frozen toes in a sea of dark, dank moss, you’ll see, you’ll find me, beyond that marker in the field, across a clichéd ocean and a sky of blue, beneath a white awning with a fawn and a flower (cherry blossoms or maybe tulips), sipping pear cider and remarking on how sweet.

I have a song in my head that dictates the words to me. Those in turn dictate the thoughts. I’m not wild, not cool, not pretty, nor fresh. I barely speak, I mumble, I think, I react unduly. But you don’t know me, no, you don’t know me. I’ll be wearing a sundress when it rains and a coat in the summer. When you’ve shed your expectations (shed them beyond doubt, not on the surface, but of it), my gleam may flicker in your eye, blindsiding you. Resist the urge to soften your focus. Stay sharp.

I can’t worry about your suicidal tendencies or the fact your life is ending. Hoops and cartwheels and floggers mean nothing to me. Well maybe floggers. But. Give me a second in a life as a six year-old girl with but a doll to care for. Because I’m still small, still balling about bearings, still agitated from my trip through the birth canal (yes, I’m admitting I took that flight). I exist. Okay. But I have no energy for anything else tonight.

Let’s finish this act with a picture of a beagle in the thick of spring. Lolly-gagging, tongue flapping in the air, butterflies landing on his bottom. His high-pitched bark far from annoying, soothes. The sun feels excessively warm, yet no one perspires and in its glow you can see dandelion sperm floating on the breeze. But you don’t feel the urge to sneeze so inhale the grassy waft and make out groovy. Pretend you’re a hippie for a time, before you miss the chance. Fuck war and war-makers. Nothing can touch us the day before we die.

9:45 pm - She arrives at her flat and kisses the man on the cheek to say goodnight. She fumbles with her keys and stumbles into the bathroom. She urinates heavily, then washes her face and rinses her mouth out. She brushes the bottom sides, then the front, then the top sides, then the top front, then the outsides, then the insides of all her teeth. She rinses her mouth again and examines her teeth in the mirror. She dries her face roughly with a hand towel. She gets a bottle of water from the kitchen. She places her lips around the plastic spout and drinks a quarter of the bottle in one, long gulp. She feels the cold water rush through her mouth and quickly down her throat, sloshing straight into the pool of wine in her stomach.

11:15 pm - She crawls into bed with her clothes still on. She yawns audibly, exercising the muscles of her cheeks and jaw. She stretches a lanky, 40-year old arm and shuffles into the duvet. She goes to sleep and dreams a dream of mouths upon mouths. She dreams of a mouth which is not her own that babbles on excessively. She struggles to understand what it is trying to convey. She drifts in and out of the dark, but the shiny lips never leave her. She feels she’s lost something on the tip of that babbling mouth’s tongue. She stares intently and then tries to look away. She’s both horrified and attracted by this mouth. She can see nothing but this mouth’s gleaming teeth. She drifts aloft on this dream that she will never recall.

Not I, Samuel Beckett

Dear Imogen,

If I had a tune for every time I’ve left, I’d make you an electronic keyboard with 750 pre-programmed sounds. I’d ship it across the cellophane seas on an origami boat, with a tin can at the helm and a jar of Branston Pickle. I’ve no doubt it would find it’s way to you. When it did, would you fly the melodies back, on the 747 jumbo jet in first class? It might be a long flight, but with a more comfortable seat, they can sleep for a while, for ages, if need be. Until they are ready. To breathe in the snow and rustle the trees.

With love,
 Ani

7:45 pm - She meets a man at an Italian restaurant for supper. She sits across from him at an uncomfortable table and sips red wine. She looks around at people, everyone is filling their mouths with assorted tomato-based pasta dishes. She takes a large sip of wine and swirls it around in her mouth. She feels the wine is cooler than it should be and it tickles her tongue. She takes another sip and orders the penne. She watches the man chew a piece of garlic bread. She takes a lot of small sips of wine and the server refills her glass. She takes more sips of wine and the man refills her glass. She takes more sips of wine and the man orders another bottle. She rests the wine glass on her lips for a while before setting it down. She takes her first bite of pasta and decides she’s not hungry. She drinks more wine and it no longer feels too cold. She takes another bite of pasta, but it’s mostly bland milky sauce and cheese. She soon forgets the pasta and remains attuned to the ants crawling across her lips.

9:00 pm - She feels nauseous as the man drives her home. She stares at his lap while he manoeuvres the wheel. She glances at his mouth when he’s distracted with other cars. She remembers they didn’t wash their hands after eating. She tastes the acidic wine flavour still on her lips. She mistakes the need to urinate for arousal. She thinks about taking the man’s cock in her mouth as he drives. She pretends to listen to him talk. She thinks about gagging him and giving him head. She imagines him drooling around a red ball gag. She imagines it will stop him from talking, but won’t keep him quiet. She imagines his glossy lips stretching around the gag and her glossy lips stretching around him. She mistakes her arousal for the need to urinate.

1:45 pm - She goes to the toilet and relieves herself. She washes her hands and splashes water on her mouth. She does not put soap on her mouth, but dries it with a paper towel. She applies red lipstick to her top lip, from left to right. She applies red lipstick to her bottom lip, from right to left. She rubs her lips together and smacks them lightly. She puckers her lips and then stretches them into a smile, but her eyes don’t follow suit. She pops a mint Tic Tac into her mouth as she walks back to her desk. The minty taste refreshes part of her tongue and the roof of her mouth. The rest of her mouth feels left out.

3:00 pm - She attends a meeting with several colleagues. She stares at their mouths as they talk. She feels tense and grinds her teeth. She pushes her tongue against the back of her front teeth until they hurt. She clenches her jaw tightly and then sighs with her mouth closed. She looks at the man across from her as he sips his coffee and wishes she’d remembered to bring her own. She pours herself a glass of water and takes a drink that makes her teeth hurt with cold. She swallows hard. She brings a paper clip to her lip and hooks it onto her lower-right canine. She briefly smiles at someone who made a joke.

5:00 pm - She leaves the office. She sucks in the inside of her bottom lip and bites it as she walks hurriedly by some people she knows. She takes a hard candy from her bag and unwraps it. She sucks the sweet juice while the candy sits between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She swishes it around her mouth with her tongue. She feels its sweetness on her gums and the inside of her lips. She pushes it around her mouth in counter-clockwise circles until it gets smaller. She shatters it with her teeth, crunching the shards until she can swallow them as sweet dust. She lights a cigarette by inhaling very deeply. She feels the menthol smoke lightly cooling her warm, sweet mouth as she makes her way home.

11:45 am - She removes her glasses, goes outside and lights a menthol cigarette. She places it between her lips and inhales deeply. She softly bites the spongy filter between her front teeth. She moistens her lips and takes another languorous drag. She puckers her lips to exhale slowly as her chest drops. She talks to a woman that just walked up to her. She feels the woman staring at her lips as she talks. She feels self-conscious and wonders if she has banana stuck to her lip or at the corners of her mouth. She takes another nicotine pull and feels her body begin to relax. She takes a last, long drag and the filter presses hot against her lips; she’s smoked too close to it. She stubs out the cigarette and walks back inside.

1:00 pm - She goes to a cafe for lunch. She orders tuna with baked potato and a salad. She sits by the window and contemplates her lunch. She crunches some lettuce between her teeth and it tastes like water. She mushes some tuna and potato against her fork and mushes that against her tongue. She repeats this process, three or four times. She takes a tiny sip of water and it tastes like tuna. She takes a large mouthful of lettuce as she looks out the window. She mushes more tuna and potato into her mouth, but does not eat the potato skin. She crunches on a slice of cucumber, which releases it’s juice between her teeth. She puts a tomato wedge into her mouth. She thinks this tomato is old. She pushes the other tomato wedges to the side of the plate. She mushes more tuna potato into her mouth, then wipes it clean with a paper napkin. She wipes off all her lipstick and her lips feel raw. She takes a big gulp of water and leaves.

8:15 am - She washes her hands thoroughly and rubs soap on and around her mouth. She washes the soap off and rinses her mouth out. She brushes her large, slightly smoke-stained teeth. She brushes the bottom sides, then the front, then the top sides, then the top front, then the outsides, then the insides of all her teeth. She rinses her mouth again and examines her teeth in the mirror. She dries her mouth roughly with a hand towel. She stares at her mouth in the mirror for seconds that pass like hours. She applies red lipstick to her top lip, from left to right. She applies red lipstick to her bottom lip, from right to left. She rubs her lips together and smacks them lightly. She puckers her lips and then stretches them out into a smile, but her eyes don’t follow suit.

8:45 am - She arrives at the large corporation where she works. She pours herself a cup of black coffee on the way to her desk. She says good morning to someone and her voice sounds hoarse. She clears her throat. She sits at her computer, takes a sip of coffee and frowns slightly. She picks up her hair and puts on her thick, black plastic frame glasses. She grabs a pen and chews on the cap as she writes. She puts the pen down and stares at the computer screen as she nibbles a few fingernails. She reads intently and tastes the salt from the fingers on her lips. She takes a large drink of coffee and makes a bitter face. She half-smiles at an email, then takes three large gulps to finish off her coffee. She licks her lips and pushes the lipstick-stained coffee cup away from the computer screen.

10:00 am - She types an email and pauses every few sentences to tap her bottom lip with her right index finger while thinking. She reads a few documents, then peels a banana that’s been sitting on her desk. She bites a large piece from the top of the banana. She reads a paper and makes notes in the margin with a pen in her left hand and the banana in her right. She brings the banana to her mouth and takes a soft, slow bite. She chews the mush of banana filling her mouth. She throws away the last banana quarter along with the peel.

7:00 am - She opens her eyes and wipes a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. She yawns audibly, exercising the muscles of her cheeks and jaw. She stretches a lanky, 40-year old arm and shuffles off to the shower. She urinates into the bowl for a long time before stepping into the bath. She lathers up and rinses off, letting shower water into her wide, pink mouth. She gently expels the water past her lips using her tongue. She dries herself and applies deodorant and body lotion. She moisturises her face, paying close attention to the pronounced laugh lines on either side of her mouth. She brushes her hair, pushing her long, flaxen fringe into her weathered, frowning face. She slips on a large button-down shirt and baggy trousers that camouflage her sturdy, bone frame.

7:45 am - She watches the morning news and takes a gulp of room-temperature orange juice with bits. She rips white buttered toast with strawberry jam in tiny pieces. She chews a piece slowly and takes a sip of bitter, black coffee. She chews another piece of toast and gulps more orange juice. She chews more toast pieces and her lips become smeared with jam. She sips more coffee and alternates coffee, toast and juice methodically. She licks greasy bread crumbs from her lips and wipes the corners of her mouth. She leaves sticky lip marks on the coffee cup and juice glass rims.

Where x is:

physical touch
plentiful sleep
delicious food
a surplus of time
creative expression
genuine interest
intellectual curiosity
 openness

x = y

y = love 2 you

y = ?