Tuesday, 22 October 2013

Character sketches

The boy with no hair has the sharpest of teeth. We roll in sugar dust & popcorn husks, trying to pull each others’ pigtails. I am left with a fistful of grins.

The boy with the gelatine vowels tells me I am so goddamn sweet when he smacks my face on the hardwood floor. My bruises are strings of unbinary code; they carry letters and laughter through my skin.

The girl with the candied orange peel voice rustles, badger-like in the undergrowth. I shout “I love you” and push her in the waterfall (there is tinfoil glinting in her hair).

The boy with the tiger stripes is going out and smooshing his softness against dark city corners. The night is a giggling beast with a velvet tongue, and I want to gallop in pony hooves by his side.

The girl with the magical fists has promised me a date. She is tea and whisky and blanket forts—we are cosy—and November is a month with jaws.

The boy with the Irish filth mouth is crackled stubble behind a candelit fire. We slide down giant metal slides into pits of sand (we slide down silk) and everything is gritty for days.

The boy with the cartoon fingers makes me egg burritos for breakfast, makes grapefruit salsa, hands me a vanity mirror pasted with vintage smut and says look at all the things you have done.

The girl who reeks of smoke and bath salts is so far away and sporadic. I want to bring her rope ladders and books with folded corners (I want to tell her it is all going to be fine).

We are sitting in the anarchist bar puddling beer on the tabletop and I am laughing, because we three are new stories, we are poetry, we are longform novels telling the secrets of the universe. A message from the tiger boy says “it’s utterly astounding” and I know it. I have to agree. I want to explain to the others that being left alone is nothing like you thought it would be, that the air up here is so thin and so sharp—it makes me giddy. I want to explain how you can feel it all the way down your throat, how you will taste sherbet and flying saucers, the way your teeth will vibrate. I want, I want. I want everything and it all.

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