to know fear is to have never tasted it, that bitter acrid taste of rotting apples mixed with strong perfume. there is no knowing, only inhalation and dizziness before the lights go on. then, fear subsides.
the aftertaste remains. cologne is rotting. rotting all the same.
and swallowing the cider bile i stop. and start. i stop and start. and i remember that this was rhythm beaten out for me and Y. aeons ago, i would have told him this was our rhythm, that it was made for us. really, the rhythm is mine alone.
it is the heartbeat of a rabbit caught running in circles, breaking out of a different hole every time. only i have no space of time and who knows if i’m late?
there is no knowing here, only white roses being painted red. but i need no paint, truth always comes out in the end.
and this fear reigns over love. it transcends the borders of us and reproduces in our creations. why is that, will you tell me?
it must be us, the charcoal darkening the paper.
it must be orange juice spilt on a linen cloth. or coffee. coffee on those tiles.
still, it’s so nice to be able taste fear once in a million words, wouldn’t you say?
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged able, acrid, aeons, aftertaste, ago, all, alone, always, apples, be, beaten, before, being, bile, bitter, borders, breaking, but, caught, charcoal, cider, circles, cloth, coffee, cologne, comes, creations, darkening, different, dizziness, end, every, fear, for, go, have, heartbeat, here, him, hole, inhalation, it, juice, know, knowing, knows, late, lights, linen, love, made, me, million, mine, mix, mixed, must, need, never, nice, no, on, once, only, orange, our, out, over, paint, painted, paper, perfume, prose, rabbit, really, red, reigns, remains, remember, reproduces, rhythm, roses, rotting, running, same, say, space, spilt, start, still, stop, strong, subsides, swallow, taste, tell, that, the, then, this, those, tiles, time, to, told, transcend, truth, us, was, white, why, will, words, would, y, you
How quietly loves pass you by,
Their names – moonless nights
killing postcoital glow.
/
/
How gravely love moulds to hate
or apathy,
mixing into the summer air,
You,
uttering their names,
holding onto that fire
/
Driving fast,
somewhere past
a streetcar named desire,
Burning through memories
Ash scattering ash
/
And
every
spark
hits
the
pavement
like
a
stone
/
You stop to breathe.
You’re not alone.
/
You know I’m here
And this is home.
Posted in excerpts
Tagged air, alone, apathy, ash, breathe, burn, by, desire, drive, every, fast, fire, glow, gravely, hate, here, hit, hold, home, how, is, kill, know, like, love, loves, memories, mix, moon, moulds, name, named, names, night, not, onto, pass, pavement, poems, poetry, postcoital, quietly, scatter, spark, stone, stop, streetcar, summer, their, this, through, to, us, utter, you
glittering soot on her eyelashes 
