First: Nazis. And how it happened, how any of it happened or could happen again. Because what is wrong with people? How could anyone be so heartless? Where there was a soul, a heart, there is an absence, a void. It is still alarming because we all have the capacity for cruelty. Some of us more than others.
Second: Yes, I can still hear all of you. There can never be any apologies, because that's saying something that shouldn't have to be said.
Intimacy in the form of layers, meaning piled on top of each other until you're clawing it away, scraping it off like crayon over crayons. Colors, smells. Intimacy in the form of skin on skin, of the way it feels when it's you and him and air. Obscenity I can get behind, pennies, dimes, all heads up on the pavement before we walked in and I smiled at everyone in the room and they smiled back in that predatory, hungry way I've come to admire. Look with your eyes, not with your hands.
Secrets don't make friends.
We bought it with loss, and then they hoisted it through the front door. The blacks and whites, and I just remember sitting in the auditorium, pianos lined up one after the other. Sneaking away before school, picking the lock, pushing my way in, and playing in the dark. It's not so different. Before I couldn't type, either. Always about keys and placement and watching the way you watch the road or his chest rising and falling, full of breath. Easy, so easy.
It gets bad. Away, somewhere else that isn't encircled perfectly by those arms, and the depletion of oxygen, the constriction, the tightness. The angle of the afternoon sun turning everything gold and too pale yellow like right in the morning, and all you need in the entire world is that one smile above you, scorching out, incinerating impurities. Because there isn't a moment where I don't feel perfect, beautiful, lovely. That's what it's supposed to be like, what they sing the songs about, paint the lies about. Bring out the goodness in me, baby. Bring it out, chip away, haul it up, refine, chisel. One good dust and blow away from being a diamond, there, held.
It's about remembering to remember, remembering how it felt. That's the only way this is going to work again.
Second: Yes, I can still hear all of you. There can never be any apologies, because that's saying something that shouldn't have to be said.
Intimacy in the form of layers, meaning piled on top of each other until you're clawing it away, scraping it off like crayon over crayons. Colors, smells. Intimacy in the form of skin on skin, of the way it feels when it's you and him and air. Obscenity I can get behind, pennies, dimes, all heads up on the pavement before we walked in and I smiled at everyone in the room and they smiled back in that predatory, hungry way I've come to admire. Look with your eyes, not with your hands.
Secrets don't make friends.
We bought it with loss, and then they hoisted it through the front door. The blacks and whites, and I just remember sitting in the auditorium, pianos lined up one after the other. Sneaking away before school, picking the lock, pushing my way in, and playing in the dark. It's not so different. Before I couldn't type, either. Always about keys and placement and watching the way you watch the road or his chest rising and falling, full of breath. Easy, so easy.
It gets bad. Away, somewhere else that isn't encircled perfectly by those arms, and the depletion of oxygen, the constriction, the tightness. The angle of the afternoon sun turning everything gold and too pale yellow like right in the morning, and all you need in the entire world is that one smile above you, scorching out, incinerating impurities. Because there isn't a moment where I don't feel perfect, beautiful, lovely. That's what it's supposed to be like, what they sing the songs about, paint the lies about. Bring out the goodness in me, baby. Bring it out, chip away, haul it up, refine, chisel. One good dust and blow away from being a diamond, there, held.
It's about remembering to remember, remembering how it felt. That's the only way this is going to work again.
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