blurb, freewriting on the lawn, Tin House
I don’t have arms to hold you.
“It’s ok,” Lily’s lids eclipsed into downward facing dog. Her brows were bent prostrate. A beat and then, “I’m tired of pretending I can feel whatever it is that I’m supposed to feel when someone holds me.”
Why, what was it like last time?
Her jaw had wanted to bend as it met collarbone and it danced a shimmy up and down looking for the soft part. There’s supposed to be a soft part in between. He was awkwardly patting her hair in reverie. Lily spent four quarter beats adjusting her ribcage slightly elevating one shoulder and then the other.
“I thought about it too much. I couldn’t enjoy it. I was waiting for it to feel like home and then it was over.” Lily could have been reading off of a transcript. She was picturing the words being typed on a transparency in front of her. He never made it into her mind’s eye, out of frame, edited out of Lily’s gaze.
“It’s ok,” Lily’s lids eclipsed into downward facing dog. Her brows were bent prostrate. A beat and then, “I’m tired of pretending I can feel whatever it is that I’m supposed to feel when someone holds me.”
Why, what was it like last time?
Her jaw had wanted to bend as it met collarbone and it danced a shimmy up and down looking for the soft part. There’s supposed to be a soft part in between. He was awkwardly patting her hair in reverie. Lily spent four quarter beats adjusting her ribcage slightly elevating one shoulder and then the other.
“I thought about it too much. I couldn’t enjoy it. I was waiting for it to feel like home and then it was over.” Lily could have been reading off of a transcript. She was picturing the words being typed on a transparency in front of her. He never made it into her mind’s eye, out of frame, edited out of Lily’s gaze.