(no subject)
Lorna would often lie in bed, alone, late at night. Her hands would slip down her body as she slowly felt her bones. Her lovely bones. She wondered what her body would look like without her double Ds. Her ribcage would protrude like a tease. Thank goodness she had those distractors that could capture just about any Oedipus Man's attention. Come to mommy. She often wondered if this is why men called women "soft"
But her favorite part. The first and last thing she did in bed everyday, was to slide her hands down to her hipbones. Those sharp edges were as swift and beautiful as a mobile by Klee. She detested the way bodies felt like jello. That swaying quality seemed weak, made her feel intangible, transient. But those two points, her two crescendos that towered over the rest of her flaccid body made her feel alive. Prominent mountains over an otherwise mostly monotonous landscape. She would squeeze them, feel their strength. The valley between them she was also proud of. How much she could sacrifice just to see those mountains. She would never be that small. Those bones were too big, but somehow she loved the gaps between the bones even more. She would never look emaciated. Nobody would ever catch on because those hearty bones could hide it all. They were so precious to her, an assurance that no matter what happened while she was living that her durable frame would be there to catch her. The points of her sharp bones were her favorite constellation that she could trace over nightly. No matter how bad or sad she felt, she could feel those bones and rest assured of her own benign, meaningless existence, protruding into a small reality.
RIP Tower Records & all those beautiful employees.
But her favorite part. The first and last thing she did in bed everyday, was to slide her hands down to her hipbones. Those sharp edges were as swift and beautiful as a mobile by Klee. She detested the way bodies felt like jello. That swaying quality seemed weak, made her feel intangible, transient. But those two points, her two crescendos that towered over the rest of her flaccid body made her feel alive. Prominent mountains over an otherwise mostly monotonous landscape. She would squeeze them, feel their strength. The valley between them she was also proud of. How much she could sacrifice just to see those mountains. She would never be that small. Those bones were too big, but somehow she loved the gaps between the bones even more. She would never look emaciated. Nobody would ever catch on because those hearty bones could hide it all. They were so precious to her, an assurance that no matter what happened while she was living that her durable frame would be there to catch her. The points of her sharp bones were her favorite constellation that she could trace over nightly. No matter how bad or sad she felt, she could feel those bones and rest assured of her own benign, meaningless existence, protruding into a small reality.
RIP Tower Records & all those beautiful employees.