more thoughts of the day, as they came and as they were (from a year ago)


The wind was a tiger, and it tore at the weaker trees with gnashing teeth and razor claws.

You can pay them. You can pay them to take a little gleaming silver hammer and they will smash your face until the bones crumble into pearly shards. They will then remove some of the shards, rearrange the rest and you will have a new face. A bonus: someone will have seen what pieces come together to form what you have spent so much time agonizing over, placing creams and tonics and beige foundation over. Someone will have seen the red and blue veins and the white gristle that hovers below. You can ask them about it later, if you want.

and she was like a tiger: bored and beautiful. When at rest, she preened and sharpened her dangerous claws and stretched her back with her arms over her head, supine. She reveled in the delicious sound each vertebra made as it cracked in relief.
The ancient art has no names. Maybe we weren’t so full of ourselves back then.
(I posted this a year ago, and I still like it.)


2 thoughts on “more thoughts of the day, as they came and as they were (from a year ago)

  1. Love the middle paragraph above. Vanity. What we won’t do for beauty, but ultimately the futility.

    See you’ve re-enabled comments. I think I would miss them, as well, Chrissy.


  2. I did. I have to tell myself that this isn’t facebook, and the comments I receive here are so sweet and true. I’m glad to have everyone back.

    Isn’t it crazy what some of us do to our bodies? To pay someone to break a nose or a chin? Yikes.

"... all my lovers were there with me, all my past and futures."

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s