01: August 2014 #08 - Amaryllis
Authored by Kelly Corinda #1
I empty the light from the bulbs. The light is ghosts. I don’t burn. I tell them. I only glow. I am my own crooked and sun bleached and satin. I say. I am my own knots. I am my own naked in the dark. I am my own satin pulled over my own head. I am mostly skin. You look at me and you see skin. I look at me and I see skin. I am everything I can remember. I can remember skin and fabrics. I am skin and fabrics. I am skin and teeth and hair and silver. I think. I reproduce myself. I reproduce myself to make more myself. This is parthenogenesis. This is the ideal. This is the cold breeze from the lizard trees. This is what the wind is. It is phenomenal. This is what hormones are. This is what pheromones are. This is what moans are. They are phenomenal. This is what I want. This is what I want. I want you to hit me. I want you to hit me so hard I bleed. I want to bleed the blood onto a slide. I want to magnify it 400 times. I want to see my erythrocytes. I want you to see my erythrocytes. I want us to see my erythrocytes together. I want to hit you. I want to hit you so hard you bleed. I want you to bleed on to me. I want us to bleed together. This is my idea of love. Where does the haunting haunt. Or any ghost. From the inside. Of course. Hauntings sit behind your eyes. And wait their turn. Hauntings lick you until you cry. That is how the haunting haunts. I want to plant my ghost bulbs. I want them to grow back as amaryllis. I want this to be about amaryllis. I don’t want this to be about ghosts. I want this to be about amaryllis. Amaryllis toast lemonade and naked. I want us to be naked. I want to pour you lemonade. I want to make you toast. I want to pick you amaryllis. I want us to pick amaryllis together. This is my idea of love.