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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 21:23:14 GMT -5
Favorite - familiar - black dirt permanent under my nails and in my pores.
I AM CLEAN.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 21:23:40 GMT -5
I.
34,000 ft above endless water.
I studied cloud tectonics, islands chipped from alien continents.
Through icicles on oval windows, I saw…
Dry milky skin, torn into patches stretched to complete horizon.
Grey cells formed into spine columns.
Gaps, like mouths peered into constant depths.
I missed the earth.
My tiny ship held its course into the sun.
Nosed into Scandinavia, adrift in the Norwegian sky, at last I caught the sight of snowcaps and the toast crust of mountains.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 21:23:59 GMT -5
II.
Moscow – "Oh brave new world with such people in it"
Cars whiz by malls, stores, billboards, high rise, duplex, mega, super.
I am an exiled paratrooper.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 21:24:19 GMT -5
III.
Dear, sell me a bra. Sell me an image, Sell me first impressions, Sell me something flashy, I don’t stand out on my own.
Stripped, ripped and scrutinized, I hid behind the golden drape.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 21:24:36 GMT -5
IV.
Relatives draw swords, domestic apocalypse looms like an angry cloud.
They circle in the circus ring, round and round each other.
Ready to cut the ropes, jump at each other’s throats.
Unspoken blood thirst in the cautious eyes.
Telepathic vampires walk on shells, trek through the mine field.
With frigid fear of a wrong step, I'm like a medic and a mediator, keep verbal landslide at its bay, I censor slips, a powder keg of buried wrongs.
I'm here to keep track of the death toll.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 21:24:56 GMT -5
V.
If I can live through this, I can live through anything.
I subject myself to torture, stretch my limits to infinity.
I have asked for strength and patience.
Draw it out from the within, for I have the grit of madness.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 22:05:29 GMT -5
Me and you, so opposite, so similar.
Like the adverse ambassadors.
You’ve got your experience.
And I’ve got my principles.
We spent the nights in the kitchen drinking Earl Grey and whispering about existence of God and the soul.
About psychoanalysis and mental manipulation.
You spoke of the evil and I spoke of the good.
Yet you said that on the contrary to reach the heights of heaven one must know the depths of hell.
At dawn I was inarticulate and dull.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 22:05:48 GMT -5
VII.
He pierces through, bores into my eyes, I squirm.
Avoid his sparkling blue lights.
In this Gestapo interrogation, his stare blinds me into a confession.
Every time my glance freezes. I have nothing to say.
He tries to pry into my thoughts.
Takes my palm, examines the curves and pitfalls of my life.
Smiles, sly without telling me why.
Only mentions that I am precious and sighs with awe.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 22:06:13 GMT -5
VIII.
What do you want from me?
And he implies the many ways he’d like to have me.
I hug my knees, body language fortifies.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 23:00:18 GMT -5
IX.
Two kindred souls.
Hand in hand, sprinted to run out of breath.
Arm on the waist, propped up, held on to the belt.
3 am.
Drunk and stumbling, mumbling.
Let’s not go home.
In the street lights, wet cheeks glistened.
You pitied me and listened.
We walked on towards the forest through the dew in the field, along the fire line of a rising sun.
Stopped.
Gasped.
Exhaled…
“I want this to last forever”
Inhaled the loyal, native air and sniffled.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 23:19:08 GMT -5
X.
Though century old preserved natural world is starkly juxtaposed with plastic trash on every curb, I saw freedom in the expanses.
Freedom had meaning here.
When I closed my eyes, I recognized the air.
Overwhelmed, I’d evaporate to be one with the sky that spills over the periphery, the sky that knows no ills…
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 23:20:36 GMT -5
XI.
You and your sister are rare gems.
How would you know, you haven’t known all women…
-He smirks-
I’ve known enough in my life.
-I gulp-
Oh yeah? How old are you?
16
No really…
-Next day, peeked into the passport-
Born in 1975.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 23:26:38 GMT -5
XII.
Nobody greets you. Nobody looks or smiles at you.
After all why should they?
But I walked down the street grinned and stared at every passerby as they averted their eyes.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 23:40:13 GMT -5
XIII.
When born into poverty, living in mud and war wreckage.
Beauty finds a way to sprout forth out of giant puddles.
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Post by Kitten on Jul 8, 2005 23:49:24 GMT -5
XIV.
We’re all crazy specters to one another because we’re selfish monsters who don’t take the time to understand the motives and each others inner lives.
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