Sorelliena
from upstairs, she heard the sound of scuffling feet. she chuckled. her children were up, but she always had the upper hand; breakfast was ready before their little heads could leave their pillows.
as they sauntered down, she popped them each in a chair and each with a plate. "eat up!"
the fans hung upside-down from the ceiling. each of them bore beautiful ornate patterns painted onto their stretched surfaces. they made an undulating pattern under the wooden rafters, stretching on for what felt like miles. the girl marvelled upwards in awe.
"what are they made from?" she asked the man. she hadn't noticed that he had slipped behind her.
"they are made from the skin of pretty young ladies like you," he replied with a smile that she didn't see.
the knife came down. new fans were made.
the fans hung upside-down from the ceiling. each of them bore beautiful ornate patterns painted onto their stretched surfaces. they made an undulating pattern under the wooden rafters. the girl marvelled upwards in awe.
"what are they made from?" she asked the man, not realizing he had slipped behind her.
"they are made from the skin of pretty young ladies like you," he replied, and the knife came down.
the gardener wore a pearl earring.
she thought that odd. who, as a gardener, could make enough to afford a pearl?
the man noticed her staring and grinned. his teeth were black like soil. blood as deep as the roses in the bushes boiled between his gums.
she ran.
the bread on my tongue was stale. i distantly remembered that i had brought it home only a day ago, but as the yelling around me continued, i found that the taste slowly slipped away from my mouth.
mom was screaming something at my grandma, and--typical of grandma--she whined something back. "i'm moving out soon," i muttered against my glass of milk.
"what?"
"nothing."
the crib she wove from starlight held the child aloft. his sleeping face was as bright as the glow of the moon, his cooing sighs as sweet as the sounds of the universe moving in harmony.
"good night, dear one. i will see you in your dreams," she told him softly, and then disappeared into the velvet black of space. in the obsidian dark, the child stirred, but would not know the feeling of loneliness that his departing mother left behind until he woke.
this was a measure with which she was accustomed.
his eyes seemed to lick her up and down, calculating each curve and each valley and each and every disgusted fleck in her honey-bitter eyes.
"done?" she hissed, and he seemed taken aback when he realized she was a living being, instead of a picture for him to peruse.
he opened his mouth and closed it, and then buckled sharply when the girl closed the gap between them in three short steps. she grabbed his crotch through his pants and squeezed until he felt a faint sting. then, she let go before he could even shout.
"you're just as much of an object as the rest of us," she said hotly in his ear. "i can measure you just as much as you can measure me."
"don't go."
he didn't turn around, though. as if he didn't hear the child's quivering voice, his square shoulders stayed like a towering dark shadow blocking the light. then, he moved away.
"please."
with every timid syllable the child's words dropped like stones, even in the silent halls after the man was long gone.
i am the prisoner to the molasses of your eyes
trapped under each liquid league
i swim deeper between siphoning glances
and lie in the cradle of your gaze
Every second spends away is her attempt at fasting from love.
Like knives the hunger digs into her parched, starving heart. Like words from a song she remembers the way love used to caress her ears, her lips, the retina of her eyes, and yet she waits and waits and waits. Soon, she promises. Soon.
load more entries