oh, renoir

friday's nocturne communique/nocturnal e-mission, part 2:
to seize upon the midnight with pain

textual relations/e-ruptions
i know not how you are situated, or how time is manifest in yr memory, or how i am manifest in yr memory for that matter. the funny thing called “possession.” the funny thing called “don’t ask me.” all these would-be words, substrates of would-be sentences that would be could i will a machine to gather sound, another to transmit it, and yet another to translate it, where, at which point, you, always on the receiving end, would understand.

under my hand you gently submit. spittle drags from the corner of yr mouth across yr cheek, drying and pulling. the skin taut. the craning neck. the descent into black hair. and the fear exorcised, externalized, given up to the joy of giving up yrself.

dad’s hands on my sternum. i try to remember how that would have felt like. frightening? arousing? would i be frightened by my arousal? or aroused by my frightenedness? and how about my hands on dad’s sternum? would the urge to press until breaking be overwhelming or give to caressing? dad, like all things that enter my mind and come out my mouth or fingers or slit, is a story i tell, essentially essentialized, a manufactured character.

as i cum in yr mouth, i spit blood. the fluids mix and turn a dangerous pink.

the sun coming in through the window into the bedroom angles across wood and white feels like Berkeley and reminds me of how i sometimes forget the feeling of bare skin tangled in dirty sheets. and limbs. bodies limp and languid on a weak end spring afternoon.

i recall memory. i recall the weekend. i look back and forth. i look backward and forward, but i don’t recognize myself. i don’t inhabit or embody my memories. i ask myself “who is that?” and “how does this happen?” my reflexivity is a leap to faith. a jump cut. first you are jumping, then you are flying. i am either being, or thinking about being, but not both, for they are two very different people. it is unfortunate that they are not a coincident, that one is never able to experience experience, to move closer, to bridge this chasm, fault line, everest crevice. what would it mean and how would it feel and would i scribble about it, both in the sense of around and as a theme? perhaps what i’m experiencing is a leap from faith. a repossession, a reversion, when what i really want is a crucifixion and resurrection. you were my kind editor. and a good one too. now i have to deal with all the pages that should’ve been trashed . . . messages. massages. nasal passages. clear. clouds go. cloud curtains open revealing the sun. lips puckered like an anus. it all works out. it all comes down. discrete spheres of insignificance, mirrored bubbles, and hives. a homeless man jockeying the dumpster. a hand that won’t stop moving until it moves you. a tongue flick(er)ing at a taut nipple. a reacharound on the wrong side of the tracks. take it from the man. give it back. the time has cum, both in the verbal sense and in the possessive sense. nuzzling yr neck with eyes half-closed, half-awake, we fall asleep. a hole to put it in. a place to fit like a puzzle, unpuzzling.

the smell of scotch and the promise of expectation it meant. the skater boy with candy on his breath and sugar in his breast. i offer him alcohol and together we invade heaven.

a sesame pretzel around yr neck. i use it because i know yr hand was there.

the phenomenon of absence. the phenomenology of distance. the weight of distance inside like the expanse of expansive entrails coiled and abject.

am i tired of momentum or tired that i have none?

tell me there is no resonance in you.

isn't it sad
how ardour
is harder
than a one night stand

love is a kink like any other.

LOOK!
dans paris
neneh cherry - i got u under my skin (red hot + blue)
el perro del mar - glory to the world
grizzly bear - while you wait for the others
robyn - aol sessions

LISTEN!
edith piaf - hymn to love
shirelles - will u still love me tomorrow
barrabas - woman
zulema - giving up
atlas sound - another bedroom
goldfrapp - eat yrself
diskjokke
tobias froberg
essie jain
lucky dragons
schlammpeitziger
sinkane
tarantula waltz
teenagers