SelectionIll
Bluelighter
i forgot that i like sunflowers
sunflowers, from that distant hill
stretching to this, my distant hill.
it just...prod prod prod...poke poke poke, my mind
you see, i started this off as something beautiful.
now all i can think of are envelopes.
envelopes...envelopes...envelopes.
heavy. leaden.
but there is a brighter, lighter side. delicate green curtains, i sleep all night since we hung them up. before, i would lay sleepless, tense, craning my neck, so the thin line of shade created by a single slat n the venetian blinds would lay right across my eyes.
i would fantasize, film noir, a dark meeting between two disconnected lovers. i would never move except to speak, always holding my head still on my thin pillow.
i would be holding a black crucifix, over the comforter, the large beads spilling out of my hand, shining and sad in the dim light. she would stand up from sitting on the edge of the bed, walk toward the bedroom door, stopping while her silloutte burns like a halo,
"you're the devil...you know that, don't you."
she would say, softly, comforting in it's truth, then glide quietly down the stairs and into her waiting car.
the young lady laying next to me, in a detatched voice would coo, "are you alright?"
"is she gone?" i would ask.
this pale, luminous delicate thing would step lightly to the window, folding down a single leaf of the blind, throwing a beam of streetlamp across my face, then letting snap back into place.
"yes, she's gone."
"then yes. i'm fine."
seemore
[ 11 December 2002: Message edited by: SelectionIll ]
sunflowers, from that distant hill
stretching to this, my distant hill.
it just...prod prod prod...poke poke poke, my mind
you see, i started this off as something beautiful.
now all i can think of are envelopes.
envelopes...envelopes...envelopes.
heavy. leaden.
but there is a brighter, lighter side. delicate green curtains, i sleep all night since we hung them up. before, i would lay sleepless, tense, craning my neck, so the thin line of shade created by a single slat n the venetian blinds would lay right across my eyes.
i would fantasize, film noir, a dark meeting between two disconnected lovers. i would never move except to speak, always holding my head still on my thin pillow.
i would be holding a black crucifix, over the comforter, the large beads spilling out of my hand, shining and sad in the dim light. she would stand up from sitting on the edge of the bed, walk toward the bedroom door, stopping while her silloutte burns like a halo,
"you're the devil...you know that, don't you."
she would say, softly, comforting in it's truth, then glide quietly down the stairs and into her waiting car.
the young lady laying next to me, in a detatched voice would coo, "are you alright?"
"is she gone?" i would ask.
this pale, luminous delicate thing would step lightly to the window, folding down a single leaf of the blind, throwing a beam of streetlamp across my face, then letting snap back into place.
"yes, she's gone."
"then yes. i'm fine."
seemore
[ 11 December 2002: Message edited by: SelectionIll ]
