the story of inner explosives
she couldn't concentrate with the wind blowing up her nose like that. She felt like a cat sneezing, trying to avoid it. The speaker under her was going into some kind of convulsion, she felt it untying knots in her throat and bursting in her stomach. She thought for a second of how uncomfortable and irritable her mother would be, sitting in the back of a stranger's souped-up jeep, drum-n-bass exploding out of her ass; may she rest in peace with the rest of her family, until another gust of strong air shot straight into the holes in her face, reminding her that she was actually happy to be there.
She had walked ina staight line like a convict avoiding any sudden turns, anything that would echo the chaos inside her tummy.
Nothing in her head, she pushed it all down insider her throat, knotted and bloated like her starving stomach that screamed back and forth insider her, pressing against the walls of her abdomen. She could see a jeep pull up in front of her. Now what? She couldn't turn, couldn't pause, afraid she would completely implode the second her body inched in any direction but forward.
Screens shot up behind her eyelids where she could clearly see the images of her dissected husband that had sacrificed himself for a country they both hated. She focused on his severed head, that head that had been in her arms, cradled like a disembodied baby only months ago. She hadn't opened her eyes after their last kiss, and hadn't seen him since he made that move sweetly coming forward, towards her face, leaning all that wasleft, poking out from under green hat and green collar, so unfamiliar, scratchy, new, belonging to someone else. The blur of his nose and eyes reaching for her, the small piece of flesh that reached between her lips, moist and sticky, nervous and exhaulting.
She heard his footsteps clambering up the back of the jeep, heard his hearbeat mix with hers, felt his legs beneath hers, rocking her, penetrating every inch of her.
He was dead, and as she felt herself flying off the speaker, tires skidding and angels holding her so softly, just as he had all these nights alone, she knew thay would be together again, in pieces, in whole.
she couldn't concentrate with the wind blowing up her nose like that. She felt like a cat sneezing, trying to avoid it. The speaker under her was going into some kind of convulsion, she felt it untying knots in her throat and bursting in her stomach. She thought for a second of how uncomfortable and irritable her mother would be, sitting in the back of a stranger's souped-up jeep, drum-n-bass exploding out of her ass; may she rest in peace with the rest of her family, until another gust of strong air shot straight into the holes in her face, reminding her that she was actually happy to be there.
She had walked ina staight line like a convict avoiding any sudden turns, anything that would echo the chaos inside her tummy.
Nothing in her head, she pushed it all down insider her throat, knotted and bloated like her starving stomach that screamed back and forth insider her, pressing against the walls of her abdomen. She could see a jeep pull up in front of her. Now what? She couldn't turn, couldn't pause, afraid she would completely implode the second her body inched in any direction but forward.
Screens shot up behind her eyelids where she could clearly see the images of her dissected husband that had sacrificed himself for a country they both hated. She focused on his severed head, that head that had been in her arms, cradled like a disembodied baby only months ago. She hadn't opened her eyes after their last kiss, and hadn't seen him since he made that move sweetly coming forward, towards her face, leaning all that wasleft, poking out from under green hat and green collar, so unfamiliar, scratchy, new, belonging to someone else. The blur of his nose and eyes reaching for her, the small piece of flesh that reached between her lips, moist and sticky, nervous and exhaulting.
She heard his footsteps clambering up the back of the jeep, heard his hearbeat mix with hers, felt his legs beneath hers, rocking her, penetrating every inch of her.
He was dead, and as she felt herself flying off the speaker, tires skidding and angels holding her so softly, just as he had all these nights alone, she knew thay would be together again, in pieces, in whole.
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