bits and pieces
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..
his arms surrounded me, pulling me away from the outside world in his cave- a
safe haven from every fear and fright. i shook, silent, amazed that this thing that had
been there so long, could be mine. he let me crawl inside him, to places that had never
been ventured by hands or hearts, and it wasn’t until i was there, that i knew how much
i’d always had.
“eve?”
“yeah?”
i looked up.
he was smiling, a different kind of smile, somewhat devilish, but at the same time
more pure than anything i’d ever laid eyes on. cosmic look, a cataclysm of sorts. memories
from the past year resurfaced- the movie, the halls, the concerts, and it all seemed so
obvious, how could i have been so completely unaware?
his hands circled me, running up to my neck and caressing my hair.
“this is strange, isn’t it?”
i laughed. “eh, not really.”
this territory, i thought, is unventered, and it’s all mine. mine. every corner of
skin is mine, and i love every bit of it. every crevice, every inch that it’s draped across,
every cell inside that burns and bleeds, every feeling and emotion behind the flesh is
mine, reflected towards me and returned with so much energy- the same light it traveled
by.
“eve?”
i looked up. “yeah?”
“i’m never leaving,” he said, gripping me tightly, “i’ll never let you let me.”
“how could i? you know i’ll be annoying you wherever you are.”
with that he smiled, and i fell into him.
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"how about this one?" he asks, twirling the leaf in between his fingers as i glance up
quizzically.
"interesting dear."
he reluctantly drops the withered plant to the ground, watching as the wind's fingers carry
it to the sky.
"the summer has gone by so fast..."
the leaf blows away further.
"i know, dear."
"how come i'm being the outspoken one? i never used to be."
i laugh, laughing at the change, the reversal of this cycle that i thought would repeat til
the end of time, sucking into that inevitable black hole that crunches and spins, spinning
in your dreams. "sweetheart, you've come out of your shell."
"that i have," he grins, "that i have."
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.
.
like a billy goat, a cursed beard, a dead baby, a crying donkey, myself, my tears streaming
on tin foil cheeks, letting it flow- upset, that he of all people loves she. of course then
she leaves to follow him (still 2nd best) where he says "probably not/hell no," but really
means otherwise. just say it. hurt me. make me bleed. usually it's just that someone
else beats you to the punch.
.
then the laughter. the empty laughter.
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She heard a distant wrapping noise that seemed to be originating by the window. Fear
crashed over her, and then common sense as she grabbed a flash light and crept up
towards the door. It got louder, tap tap tap. Rolling her eyes she threw back the curtain.
The figure screamed as it fell from the ledge, smashing into the bushes. Eve quickly
opened the window and beamed the light onto the unknown assailant.
“Luke?” she asked in disbelief at the tangle of legs and arms that stared before
her. “You look like a dying octopus.”
“This is what I do for you, you know, and you just laugh at me.”
“Well maybe if you’d knock on the door like a normal person I would have more
sympathy. Good night.”
“No, please-”
“Lucas, good night,” she said as she closed the blinds.
Grumbling, Luke stood up, brushing off the leaves and sticks that had stuck to
his coat. Eve walked into her bedroom, and then stopped. She turned towards the
doorway and felt a twinge of sympathy, or maybe it was pity. Whatever it was she
couldn’t tell, but that didn’t matter. Reluctantly she opened the door and went out on
the terrace. Luke was still standing there.
“Nice night out,” she commented. He nodded
.
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Black iron crawls across the page in curves, a modern piece of art you would see in a
Chicago museum. Wiry arms are reaching in no real pattern or direction, bent like they
are resting their elbows on the ground. The arms motion, curving and bending, trying to
ward off what could possibly be a bad hair day. The black iron twists and turns around, a
jumbled mass of chaos, a metal fence that has been melted and molded into what looks
like a dark rambunctious roller coaster.
.
I situate my favorite elements in a well lighted room, and bring out the basket,
surrounded by flower petals. I concentrate on the basket, feeling the essences absorbing
into my skin. I become a medium, staring longer at the basket until finally the snake
slides out. It’s slinking upwards, coiling into what appears to be a perfect spring. It
shoots glares at me like sharply pointed spears, they sever, rip and tear at my existence. I
take it all in. With one last breathy hiss it uncoils in slow satiny movements back into the
basket. The memory of the event stays with me forever.
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