Tuesday, November 20, 2012
11.20
She hiked her skirt so I could see the pale blue of her public secret. I tried to look away, but she moved in front of me, laughing like a freight train. You know, I envy her freedom. I would never hike my skirt for a stranger. I take a second look at her. It's clear that she's fresh from whatever farm grew her; she still has that rosy glow around the eyes from doing something verboten and new. I tried in my heart to reason with her, to stop her from the terrible path she chose, to convince her of some higher universal good, but I ended up sleeping with her instead.
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Public secret. Good phrase.
ReplyDeleteThis is unexpectedly depressing after the last one, but I hope nothing has changed.
Madonna-whore complex?
I don't know. I rarely Madonna/whore anything. P.S. unexpectedly depressing? I never understand you guys saying that. Complete incomprehensible hogwash.
ReplyDeleteI was not expecting you to be in such a frame of mid for a month or more. This demonstrates, of course, how limited our shared experience is and has been, and that is all.
ReplyDeleteI don't think anyone intentionally does. But the world is easier to see in black and white, sometimes. This girl seems to travel quickly between extremes, is all. And, after all, is there any more ... simple? ... dichotomy than innocent/guilty, regardless of desire?
*mind.
ReplyDeletePhones are wonderful tools that more often fix mistakes than make them, but I still miss my computer (sorry, Donald).