light like a river handjob
25th January 2010Smack lips like stranger’s thighs, incipient in attitude like a hush of streets. Emboldened by catwalks, she listens, shoots up a naughty finger and bends at the knees. One, two. A simple shot, a plan to leave the noose hanging ready for the plunge. Next to the noose, a bible. Because we all want to believe that it was right. Beside that, a naughty schoolboy, dressed in leather chaps and vagabond slims, his long sharp arms like a giant’s razorblades; he does a half-circle, in roller skates, rolls over toward the painful side, cuts through the mediocre and there he stops, with time he thinks. I don’t know about the next night, but once, when the plane was propped up beside the building, we all knew it was new magic. I heard the boy had a hairstyle like a mother’s braid.
29th January 2010 at 12:28 pm
This one is beautiful. I could read it over and over like a mantra. So many great sounding phrases and striking images. I like the ‘giant’s razorblades’.
30th January 2010 at 4:44 pm
Awwwwwww geez.
I’m going to re-read this and re-read this and re-read this obsessively. It’s short and direct and velvety. Reading this is like getting a good night’s sleep. Reading this is like freaking magic.
31st January 2010 at 11:41 pm
Kiss you both on your sweet talkin’ faces.