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sereg — Cambio
Published: 2007-02-06 20:43:23 +0000 UTC; Views: 70; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 2
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Description
She's curled into the kitchen couch,frustration flowing viscous through veins
like blood and flour,
bread-baking skin steaming,
meat and oil from teenage pores
(only two years from adulthood)
and frustrated--
she hangs from each granual of affection,
("bella" whispered wisely, timely)
tilted
up,
foreshortened eyes, the twisted
perspective up
from his lap,
his smile, chin misted in that distinctive masculinity
so different from the smooth Caravaggio sweep
of a woman's collar
and neck
and cheekbone,
and she's found herself a virgin all over again.
She's twelve,
letting ballet barracades and barettes
out of the cascade of brown curls,
kissing older girls with lips like hotel bars,
remembering Julie's eyebrows,
indie-girl wristbands,
black, red lingerie, blue walls,
waving colours like the inverted American flag
under the veil of her reconstructed virginity,
her unaccustomed hands
fumbling benedictions.
She's seventeen.
His head's tilted down, a distinctive hand
craddling her cheek against the winter chill
penetrating vaguely familiar walls,
foreign dress,
feathering out over black-lenghtened lashes,
(that she'd resisted, but thought little of
now) her head reclined on narrower hipbones,
her shaggy hair,
frosted still in brassy feminist blonde,
softening the curves of his thighs,
nestling in the arches
of drastically different architecture.
"bella." But stone drunk sober:
soaked in the inebriating vapor
of simply
translateable
phrases,
rewriting basic vocabulary,
she blushes.
