Rosy Black

Went to the Museum of Natural History today with B. (And Thais dies!)

On the LIRR, the LIRR, the LIRR!

And that bulging repulsion has returned with each heaving breath, leaving my flesh marked... I have to remember to get my Bill Viola book back from KSing... Tomorrow is Mother's Day...

Anyway, before I was filled with overwhelming affection for him, so that i almost forgot all of the disappointment. And i think that I should call ChoirMan. I think that I should... (grow!)

It's raining today and I have kissed the wind (and so!) and the sky is a rosy black--mixed with the glow of reflections and rose-cut raindrops mixed with the industrial orange which colors my very core... I am scared of that orange!

But I love staring at my image threaded through night and motion. I love the thick and stuff sweeps of eyelashes and the soft shocking whites that are part of the aching red "Sheraton" sign and the "Golden City Bank" and the gloss on my lips begs to merge with the rain and the very spirit of night and breath.

Rusted screws blink back at me and I remember the sad pegged clown face of the girl's bathroom... Nailed by the cheeks, nose up-turned, and eyes-- forever stitched closed in sorrow...

("Why then brawling love, oh loving hate...")

To enter... to enter... kissed on the eyelids... Lights like swellings burst from blisters suspended i my hair and the quiet of void (Stride la vampa!).

But now I am cold and wonder if I have been betrayed. And I wonder what he wanted (me) when he called me...

And I think of how much I will miss them all when I am gone... I wonder if there will be postcards there... I wonder if my eyes will still be white (eggs) and if Billie Holiday echoes in the courtyards... (The sudden smell of burning flesh!)

Lights on bridged horizons now-- and blue hair flaps in the wind...