06-23-2011, 10:14 AM
- I love you.
- I need you.
- There are times when I lay on my bed and pretend my left leg is yours as I stroke my right with it.
- There are times when I eat too much and I tell myself the resultant heart pangs are for you.
- When I take off my hat on a hot summer's day and my forehead is soaked in sweat I speak softly and sharply as though we've just made love.
- The sun is sinking behind the shed. Not the horizon. The shed. It will be stored where we once grew tomatoes and I told you I loved you and the light and the heat will wait there instantly killing any insect or animal unfortunate enough to pass by.
- I am sixteen years old and I carry a pen knife around with me. So are you. So do you. We are those children who are laughed at and scorned by anyone with sense who despises our self-pity. I finger you to the music of some heroin addicted American who ended up shooting himself. You suck my cock while pretending to pretend I'm your father.
- I am seventy-five years old and my wife has been dead for a year. You are seventy-two and have never been married. Though you once had a string of lovers as you worked your way through London society. We meet in one of those depressing halls where old people are herded to eat undercooked duck while social workers recite pleasantries. We make love on your flower print couch and I come.
- We are both middle aged and living with ten children on a pebble dashed estate. Two of them are yours. Three of them are mine. Three of them belong to your sister who's now in prison. Two are the children of one of mine and one of yours. We smoke weed as the audience applaud entertainers we aren't paying attention to on a TV thick with filth and dust.
- The sun is rising from the soil. Burning the tomatoes and the print your shoe made as I pinned you and kissed you and told you I love you against the sodden wall. The sun is rising and now I will benefit from the light and the heat.
- I love you.
- I need you.
- I need you.
- There are times when I lay on my bed and pretend my left leg is yours as I stroke my right with it.
- There are times when I eat too much and I tell myself the resultant heart pangs are for you.
- When I take off my hat on a hot summer's day and my forehead is soaked in sweat I speak softly and sharply as though we've just made love.
- The sun is sinking behind the shed. Not the horizon. The shed. It will be stored where we once grew tomatoes and I told you I loved you and the light and the heat will wait there instantly killing any insect or animal unfortunate enough to pass by.
- I am sixteen years old and I carry a pen knife around with me. So are you. So do you. We are those children who are laughed at and scorned by anyone with sense who despises our self-pity. I finger you to the music of some heroin addicted American who ended up shooting himself. You suck my cock while pretending to pretend I'm your father.
- I am seventy-five years old and my wife has been dead for a year. You are seventy-two and have never been married. Though you once had a string of lovers as you worked your way through London society. We meet in one of those depressing halls where old people are herded to eat undercooked duck while social workers recite pleasantries. We make love on your flower print couch and I come.
- We are both middle aged and living with ten children on a pebble dashed estate. Two of them are yours. Three of them are mine. Three of them belong to your sister who's now in prison. Two are the children of one of mine and one of yours. We smoke weed as the audience applaud entertainers we aren't paying attention to on a TV thick with filth and dust.
- The sun is rising from the soil. Burning the tomatoes and the print your shoe made as I pinned you and kissed you and told you I love you against the sodden wall. The sun is rising and now I will benefit from the light and the heat.
- I love you.
- I need you.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
