JUDGEMENT

January 24, 2011

look at you. his name was michael his name was john. look at you. look at you. his name was peter his name was paul. Look at You. Look at You. Gabriel. Gabriel. Garbiel.

found banks. founded banks. married married married. the girl next door. the Tiber. give me your hand don’t leave. never leave. the water running hot. the frightened pipes sweat.

after you have given your word come down from the rock. the people will embrace your body and devour your gifts. be sure to bring them sugar. salt. flour. never shut up. never shut up. never.

shut up.

the Tiber. allow this one part of you to touch the grass nude. wait for red ants. let then bite. slice the flesh clean from your corpus and lay it on the bank. limp home showing no other parts. nude.

bleach the bloodied garment. search under your nails, blanched fingers! LOOK BEHIND YOUR TEETH, CROOKED BITCH! come home.

you can come home. you can come home. you can come home. with me. tonight.

i was angry. I was Angry.

CUNT!

I Win.

room between us

January 18, 2011

Flavia was wed at twenty to a volatile life. One to leave a widow in its wake. Millions of Years before the End, rough tides cut deep into the cliffs. Flavia’s heart rocked soundlessly above, caught in an eternal drift-wind. Her body forever poised. A fatal swan-dive everlasting. Never again was the cliff to hold her small feet to its stony skin. Nor would the ocean catch her final breath in its wet palms.

“time is moving you away from me. by inches. every night you sleep curled closer to the edge of the bed. i’m shying ever closer to the wall. my would-be lovers on either side of me. you, and cold white coats of latex.

we are making room between us in this bed. a space for the never-to-be children to shelter from their nightmares. a space for them to wet in their scary sleep. we wouldn’t mind. the sheets would welcome the fluids. ours haven’t soaked through here in years.

your face at breakfast is a window. no more than a view. still quite beautiful, but now merely the thing i see everyday. everyday for years staring at the ocean, and one day the roar becomes white noise. your face used to terrify me. i thought i might drown in it. a thing so formidably gorgeous. now that i know your tides by heart, they no longer stir me. and i no longer care for the delusion that i am the moon pulling you in and out. you crawl over the sand and smash the cliffs by some other power. these days i’m not really interested in those mysteries.

every inch of you is sickeningly familiar. and my own nakedness in your eyes seems redundant. these days i try not to be seen.

at night my throat is tight. it’s working itself raw to hold back the tears. hold down the vomit. i press my forehead to the cold wall. and then my palm. my forearm. each night i bring up a little more courage. i roll my head and drag the bridge of my nose up and back and forth. feeling the cold, the tiny imperfections, dust trapped in the paint. in the morning i blush to see my greasy fingerprints in smears across the whiteness. i wipe them off. tenderly. when you aren’t in the room,” Flavia said to herself. Perhaps. In His Lifetime.

Buck.

January 14, 2011

More from a luscious collaboration with photographer Jacklyn Atlas.

“Daddy.”

January 12, 2011

POMPe

January 8, 2011

January 5, 2011

stand still and unbending.

January 4, 2011

i didn’t want to react that way. i wanted to be the nobler. i wanted her to know i was alright with it. wanted her to see how okay i was. how strong. and open-minded. how wise. she could come to me for advice, even. my shoulders were so straight and strong. so absorbent. still so for her to cry on. i wanted her to see she was not hurting me, could not hurt me. i wanted her to lean against the whole rock wall of me and slumping in her weakness, acknowledge how sturdy i was. her weakness. was not mine. i could deal with it. and she thought she was going to have to be strong and resolute enough for the both of us. i didn’t want her picking me up off the floor. i wanted her to see i didn’t need that. my knees were not going to bend beneath this. i was going to stand still and unbending. i wanted her to see that some people are rather well adjusted. and that, actually, i was one of those people. had been all along. that there were sides to me she’d never seen. that there were sides to me she’d dragged out into the light only to stomp on then like cockroaches who’d been happy in the darkness and were now scrambling for their lives. caught by the flick of a switch. all that was over now. i wanted her to see i didn’t need her to feel solid. i’d needed her to tear myself apart over. but had done the thing over and over because it turned her on. when she could put me back together. arrange my flaccid limbs in an embrace around her. rub my cold hands. spread my exhausted legs and warm me from the inside. she was expecting me to crumble today. today she was going to tell me she wasn’t going to do this anymore. she was going to leave me in a pile on the floor with all my love for her pooling salty and sad around me. it was going to be pathetic. the very sight of it exhausting. my pathetic, exhausting, nauseating hysteria was going to be her confirmation. she didn’t want that any more. she had her own life. she was tired. she was not going to be manipulated. i was not going to manipulate her. no. i was not about to react. not that way. i had no expectations. she could walk out the door and i’d be fine. she could just leave if that’s what she really wanted. she could believe that it was really fine with me. that i was happy for her. that i understood. it was difficult to be with me. i am a difficult person to be with. yes. she gave so much. and yes. i know. how exhausting it must have been. for her. but now we could both take a rest. really. i was going to be okay. i was determined to make her believe that. really. please. believe me. i know. shhh, don’t cry. i know. please. don’t be sorry. go. really. you need this. space. you need to breathe. shh. just breathe. i know. come here. it’s alright. cry if you need to. i’m hurting too, baby. but it’s for the best. you know it is. it was your decision. it’s alright. of course. yes. if you need to. of course you can stay the night. i know. just one more night.