Day: November 4, 2004

:one:
for my desire.

Dark breath caught, need separated by together move now secrets and here like this please. Give.

:two:
for my body

The strings that hold heart in, the Word. Pale earth moving skin senses stance mine, thick inside with stars. Taut soft breaking, a country, I shut my gates now it’s cold.

:three:
for you

You taste like a cathedral. Soaring woodwarm centered on a man tied to two sticks. Laced to the cross for three days, the guard wept as he plunged his desire in. Three times the sun rose and three times it set and on the third day the guard wept as he thrust his desire into the wasted body

I don’t expect a phonecall, all I know is that you’re not with me. It’s blinding, I couldn’t see to walk home. It’s cold here. If there is a chase, then I have lost. Reciprocation, I should have no reason to leave. You look at me and I don’t know what you see. I don’t know why you stood there, I don’t know why it was okay the first time. Why in our littlest beginning we were even and now it’s not allowed. There was nothing but caramel honey melted and wanting to. Now there’s pressure and only leather lock snaps. It’s a pathetic broken song, this sitting alone again.

I can’t live scared of blood. This is my medium, my glory that lifts me from everyday in into time. I count by blood as if every month were written on a wall with my careful bodypainted fingertip.

I can live with enough. It is not nice and I will not claim it to be satisfying, but it is survival. To expect more is simple bitter idiocy. There is no way for me to fairly claim more. I don’t deserve it, there’s no reason for me to ask it. To want more is always there, ignored. What I need is to be addressed, not what I want. It always seems the simplest way. It doesn’t have to be happy if it works.

Then comes my chemical nightmare. My onetime connection with myself. I would love it if I were allowed to. I was a painful fool tonight. It’s not my place to expect. It’s not my place to assume. I expected when I asked to be granted a little more to match my enough. To taste for a moment the lucky half of the deal. I’m sitting here in the dark cursing myself. There is no justification for expecting anything other than rejection when it’s all I receive. I’m going to head out soon, go home to my personless room. Needing and having nothing when I’m alone is expected. It’s the closest I have to normal. I can’t stay. Being thrown away three times will be too much.

Tomorrow he leaves.

Her hands are covered in little cuts. She smashed a glass washing dishes, not noticing until she found the counter flecked with red. Her eyes swept over to the broken pieces of clear glass, catching on the shard with a single drip of rust. She picked it up, “isn’t this pretty?”

I’ve discovered something interesting under my friends elbow. It’s a document, practically illegible under years of grime. Registration instructions from twenty years ago, grubbily taped to the counter. I’m sure it was once possible to read words around the middle before someone cut a ragged hole through the desk. No longer, so now it’s an artifact. I took a pen from his distracted hand and wrote I APPRECIATE YOUR PROFESSIONAL ATMOSPHERE in dark blue ink along the left edge. He was busy discussing air freight charges with the man behind the counter. Walking away, I looked to the walls for something to examine. I always do in such places, but never find them. In among the ubiquitous framed prints of generic art, and certificates claiming their legal business, one sign claimed “If transporting live tropical fish, the customer is responsible for the oxygenation of the live freight”

He came to her over wires spun of thinnest information. His voice swept into her from small speakers she suddenly hated for distorting this precious thing. “Love me”, he said, and she did. “Touch me” he said, and she wanted to. Aching to trace fingers against warm flesh, she twisted, willing herself where she wasn’t. Something inside cried for release, though she didn’t know how. Her hands are useless, her mouth unable to shape the words to free her bindings. Pressing her lips to the inside of her wrist, it happened. Something shifted and with a snap, she moved. Electricity screaming free, complicated molecules shining into the purest desire, the body dissolved into an amalgam of sound. “I never knew this to be easy. This is never what I read about” Another letter arrived on screen. “I want you”, he said. “It’s time,” she thinks, then goes.

There is something both satisfying and not about wearing thigh high fishnets around the house. Tie ups with PVC trim, they’re certainly fun. It’s secretive, having them on underneath a long skirt that sways to the ground. Secretive is somewhat sexy, a little self-alluring. The idea is to let the other person find out, to let them discover and then want. It’s all rather useless if there’s no pique of interest. Thence the Not. I suppose it’s the moon of month to feel under appreciated. Too much need.

It’s time to take things out airport for shipping. Time to slip on my matching gloves and slide out of the house. Sit in a car feeling not quite enough. Tomorrow I’m at the airport – very first thing in the morning. Hang out in the blue seat area until it’s time to die a little. Another I Could Go With but Am Not. Another waving them goodbye and damning my eyes because I can’t watch them walk away. They blur into nothingness, blends of colour with no meaning attached.

One day I’ll see my lovers, until then, I hope they send more pictures.