Friday, March 11, 2011

...

She said he was the open door to the starlit dreams she wished upon
he said he could be all that and more
but only for a night
she gave in hoping that one night would feel like eternity
wishing clocks would break
so she could forever feel that feeling you feel in the middle that climbs up into your middle searching for a center that doesn’t exist
clit. heart. no soul

Her ceiling stares at her underneath him recording the number of times this scene has taken place
just a different actor
she stares back at the ceiling remembering the day she lost her soul
rather the day her soul was taken
more like the day she prayed the devil to do the things that God wouldn’t do for her
all for that feeling

She crosses her fingers while she crosses her legs around him
hoping that he stays, locking him in incase he tries to leave
her eyesight sore
bruised by the backs turned to them running the opposite way
she calls out, but her voice is unfamiliar
they don’t even remember her name
the conversation doesn’t get that deep
she has no face
exists from the neck down, sometimes just from the waist

she invites him into her earth
tries to tell its history through her body
he doesn’t speak her language
nor cares to learn
he’s but a mere traveler passing through
packing up souvenirs

He becomes another ellipses in her narrative
an incomplete character
an outline
a blank waiting to be filled

She repeats to herself that this time will be different and this one will be the one…
ignoring the sun rising at his falling

Blinded by her heart’s fears that plummet out her eyes
she’s sees the door open
she whispers: “but you are the open door to the starlit dreams I wish upon”

The door closes in answer

But only for a night.

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