Him Inside

Let’s play that game. Do the twist. Lay in the morning and man-make the lake on the ground with small islands. Bask until the novelty of sensation wears off and then rub the face for a while. It’s always got that same potency. Thin walls have nothing active inside them, but she hears us and asks us to be quiet. 

It's Friday morning, and how do you hold a gun? A woman inside you wants to kill a curled up man inside her. Your breakneck heart slows when she touches him. It’s a joke. You think you get to laugh at things. She touches steal to his forehead and his eyebrows twitch but nothing else moves. Is that alright?

Ok now jerk and splay and actually contort because we’re playing that game! Pleat the hair so it doesn’t slide or at least so it won’t leave that thin residue on the scalp and back. Now leave home and slowly palm the flowers from the worst shrub in town, and consider the muscle of its drug. Consider him smoking again and what that would do for his constitution. Tell him it wouldn’t be good and encourage him to be good. You layer your words in grease. You get hungry, so you melt butter in a pan and mix it with cheese and milk. What would you dip in it? A sinuous protein of some kind, most likely. Grown up Mary Jelly Girl, fix your hair and right the inverted symbol you wear.

You wish for goddamn brunch! You wish for a mimosa and maybe a nice dress with spaghetti straps like you used to have at the playground and liked the sprinklers! You wish for any comfort which made the small talk runny and the company welcome. But now people gather in the field to play humiliating games where girls and boys run from water. Fluid. Put you back so that the seeds may be sucked into the tree by their helicopter backs. 

He wants to make his form inside you mean something. He lies that he’s inherent and resonant. And yes, there’s an “I” and a “he”. They are the same person looking at each other, laughing, knowing the opposite of what the other says to be true. In unison now, I am most interested in my mirror image, most interested in looking at myself through him and saying yes, let’s play that game again.