Wednesday, September 14

Free Write 1, Week 3

I love to leave the free write for last it seems. Build up of suspense or neurotic fear of judgement? You decide. A friend, in an attempt to inspire me provided me with this video by Air called "Sex Born Poison". I stole a line off the sight that I plan on using here. I'm also attempting Erika no longer Meitner's calisthenic in this. Can't think of a title... it's no where near done so why bother? Here goes:


I remember thin skies on day-painted shifts.
I remember I wore nothing underneath.

What started these suggestions, the ideas
to transcend physical nuisances, denim zippers?
What dared me to circuit our connection
of intermingled, intertwined and oh so satisfying--

I remember my legs were thinner, pliable.
I remember broader shoulders marred by naked nails.

creeping on sacred concrete, sandwiched between
a lawnmower and last year's beach balls.
Who is snoring on top us right before the baby
screams? The ground is cold, the noise, God, my noise--

I remember you sweating Gillette and mold.
I remember tasting salt and unsanctioned prayers.

hovered over the edge of frozen intensity. You fingered
every scrap, every morsel, devoured slippery pieces
of my hesitation like a rabid dog in Spring, panting and foaming
until the pain became too clumsy to endure.

I remember how loud that door screeched.
I remember squeezing but never molding.
I remember not getting caught.
Do you remember that it felt right?

And instead of dancing, I remember we swam
in the atom juice of my joy, so basic.
Brought down to the smallest levels
of ecstatic animalism and awkwardness.

There's a first time for everything.
I remember it never happened.

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