a message for you.
please excuse my dust as this blog site is still under construction.
“take a hip flask.”, he told me & so feens drove as far as she could, until i could see the sea throwing itself at the cliffs. the cliffs we almost ran off that sunday, when we couldn't quite get our balance right, from spinning in circles across the grass. the grass was dense, emerald & cat-eyed in every blade, a patchwork of every green i'd ever seen with my two eyes. my two eyes were stinging with pollen, red as the grazes on our elbows from pulling ourselves back up the cliff. the cliff was worn, more so than before, the chunks now slept on the sand, resembling the castles we made when we were young.
we were young & foolishly left our buckets & spades to be splintered by the sea, shards on the sand. the sand ate my toes up as i stood, feeling the froth of the ocean around my ankles, staring at the horizon, realizing it was never as straight as i thought it was.
i think back to the steaks he would beat limp into bread boards, fry fat & serve sodden. it left our teeth chalky, out tongue licking blackboards for weeks. stop. this knot knotting, twisting, tort, tight, tightens, the lids start to bow in submission.
a thousand stereos are skipping in my head. they sharpen into a pencil point & run riot all over the walls. each beat bursts each vessel into a contemporary design worth millions, a mess hung in punishment of a biased judge. there is a child drawing flowers on the window, breathing hot air onto glass after every mistake made.
- taken from april's collectos.
Signed with my sister’s love,
Nicci.D
Labels: bread boards., buckets, castles, cat-eyed, chunks, cliffs, emerald, fry fat, shards, sodden
