Bilious We •

 

 

I so often wish I could bring you sensations, moments, bits of the fabric of things. Today, on the edge of the forest, white throated deer ate new leaves off of saplings a few feet away, as I, black clothes stark against the bark, picked sap and brought it to my face. These moments, like the rocks, in some way unmoving, smooth, clever. I wish to bring these to you untarnished by translation, and in the same moment I know it to be impossible. But I know that very soon we will be in the same room – and that that is the closest two humans get to seeing, as one, the quality of light in an afternoon.

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Brevity

 

 

Each person whom I have enmeshed in my limbs and inhaled ( or have slipped into a day with ) – all of my lovers – are in a room together. The bar is serving cocktails and red wine, and horderves are passed around on doilied platters. The sequins on my deep blue dress are flattened the wrong way, like fur. Everyone is comporting themselves far too calculatingly. Perhaps as more alcohol is imbibed there will be less civility? More people are in attendance than my first calculations would have predicted. I do not wake up.

 

You can have it all

If all is vast

Lodged in the numb bright

Of the sky