Sunday 30 June 2013

Seeking Solace

The Streets are You. The Air is You. The Languages Dripping Off Their Tongues are You....I'd Like to Forget, Like You. I'd Like to Run Away to a Foreign Place. Away From You....I Need to Get Away. And I'd Like to Find Myself in the Arms of a Stranger. A Handsome Man Whose Name I Don't Know, Whose Wife is Staring Down at Him Making Love to Me From a Frame on His Bedside. Just Staring At Us For Hours Until He Comes and I'm Satisfied at The Knowledge of Having Satisfied Him, If Not You....I'd Imagine Myself as One of the Women You'd Bed While My Fingerprints Lay Strewn Across Your Walls.... I'd Like to Walk Down Streets with Names I Can't Pronounce and Forget That the Gods Ever Made Such Perfection When They Sketched You And Placed You Next To Me...Until You Left Me. I'd Like to Lay Between a Woman's Thighs And Taste Her Longing When She Digs Her Nails into Dirty Bed Sheets and Attempts to Muffle Her Cries Because She's Ashamed of Her Life and the Weakness Which is Him...I Want to Take Her Broken Because, I'd Imagine She Was Me and I Was You....

3 comments:

  1. Intriguing, the speaker is abandoned by her once lover, in misery considers infidelity, mentions that she still yearns for him. There is homosexual experimentation in 'I'd like to lay between a woman's thighs and taste her longing.'
    At the end the speaker does not want to be female, in the 'conventional' sense, does not seek out to find a more suitable lover to heal the pain, to grow away from it.
    Marveling in the story, artists are interesting, I might have to use this someday if I ever commit to produce. Or at least the idea, shall I remember.

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