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I feel like making
a fiction tonight, some electric charge in a still, black hollow,
some thin spark of excitement. I imagine the curling sea sucking
away at the ground I inhabit, my skirts spun and gritty around
my thighs. The electricity is a shaft of light from the fat moon
over me, a column of white intensity penetrating the open cavity
of my mouth, a thick tongue dripping frenzy to coat the noises
of my throat. The nails of my fingers are the colors of coral,
sharp and dangerous to the fabric of air around me. Charged and
immobile, I brace myself against the winds, where they are containing
me, capturing the cool flesh of my shoulders, locking into the
blown corruption of my hair, striking against me like shells
against gun powder, threatening explosion and the sweet release
of sudden invisibility. Fire! Ignite, explode, burst the protective
colors of deception, crack the mortar, split the rock, set me
free. |
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