Archive for

Walls

Posted on August 14th, 2016

When the night comes, I can see you wrap your hands together in the darkness. Your grip is loose and thoughtfully gentle. It seems a heavily practiced gesture, though it always requires substantial imagination. And you can pretend we’ve both just fallen asleep like that, as if always. At some point, inventing was all our bodies seemed able to do. Our voices became torn out, edited, and disputably false. We were precise and dishonest in every word, in our choices, in our inauthentic way to make unraveled threads into a comfortable living space. The weight from this has made uneven fragments from history. Chapters of stories get shredded into moments, which blur into feelings, eventually evaporating into this barren vacuum. You said the hardest part for…

Les Corps Blancs

Posted on February 17th, 2016

“Your accusations have finally drowned me! Your words spin and twist like spears, your finalities whip my flesh thin and tear out my organs! You point and gawk– my supposed friends! – and hiss your allegations[1].” – La Blanche   La Blanche is at her fortress where the walls are formed from one-way, orchid glass. She sits at a square wood table adjacent to the window and questioningly glimpses out at those twenty bodies that have surrounded her. She defocuses their sneers, furrowed brows, barred teeth, and she distracts herself from their proximity by ripping her lose nails from their beds. She recalls a youth that welcomed pain therapy, but she tells herself now that she’s too grown up for teenage angst. In her…