Tag: Bez
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Complicated
Bez is laying on my sofa in a thin yellow dress, the buttons undone from the top and down to a dangerously revealing level. There is a fleck of sky blue paint which nests inside the hollow of her throat, something she’s picked up from the painting she was working on this afternoon before coming…
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Super Bowl Sunday
I’m laying on my sofa in my underwear and listening to Prince singing Purple Rain. Do people still make fun of Prince? Do people still listen to him? I don’t care. It’s one of my favorite songs and one of my favorite albums, and I don’t care what people think about it. One of the…
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In the Bath
There are two bathrooms in my house, the one downstairs which has the shower that the dog sometimes uses, and the one outside my bedroom where the clawfoot tub lives. It’s a grand old thing, and was in the house when I moved in: cast iron, painted white on the inside, purple on the out,…
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Unsettled
I am dreaming of a girl named Adelaide. In the light of the sun, her hair is the color of sunflowers, her eyes the deepest blue, her lips apple red, and her disposition equally bright and warm. By moonlight however, she becomes a seductress, hair and eyes black as onyx, lips cold and aching for…
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A Mysterious Key
There is a key on the kitchen counter this morning, where none was when I got into bed last night. I ask Bez about it. “I have no idea where it came from,” she says. “I thought you put it there.” I turn to the Kitchen God. “Did you put this here?” Of course he…
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Apricots and Snow
Somewhere tonight it is snowing. Bez’s hair smells of apricots. Her belly is warm under my palm. She breathes softly but deeply as she sleeps There is safety in numbers. Somewhere tonight it is snowing. But not here.
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The Right Word
I have three thousand, six-hundred and thirty-two ideas for what to write about, and currently none of them are stirring me from my comfortable bed of lethargy. Some of these are things that relate to me: the boy with the wild hair named Christian who I once thought I would marry; being snowed-in with Laura…
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Awkward
In fifteen minutes, I will be in bed. This day has been one of those which must just be gotten through. I’ve been walking uphill ever since I got up this morning, and nothing has gotten me out of this state of mind which I find myself. Men can be so irritating. I hate feeling…
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Synchronicity
What I want to write about is mundane, completely and utterly typical. I want to tell how I was out this evening and saw the Cheese Man outside a restaurant, in the shadows between the streetlights, doing with a woman the very same thing he had been doing with me the other night, and how…
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The Smaller View
I am only interested tonight in things in the macro, in the close-up. I am closed to the bigger picture, to interconnectedness. All that I want is the individual, the broken piece, the tiny flaw. There is a chip in the mirror in my bedroom, a shallow pool of black from which the silver has…