And These Are Just The Edges

Frags were ripped for the week. No subtle messages on the first sides.

Boldly Courageous; courage with a qualifier. This is the only boy allowed inside the all-girl clubhouse. And it’s not because his balls are so big. It’s because his balls are so soft. He knows girls like soft things next to their skin. Arguments about size and conquest are only relevant in the cigar smoke of trophy rooms, where he finds little of interest. Not all lords are lordly. Not all bolds are boldly. While his brethren learn how to have sex from porn he learns from women. He courageously hurdles the velvet rope smelling of licorice and cut grass. Once inside he boldly hushes with I didn’t come here to talk about your kids. I came here to talk about you. 

Ecstacy.  You’ll notice it is not Ecstasy. Except it is, dressed up in a different costume so we will work harder to grow into her. Yes, her. She used to be a roommate. A playmate. A glutamate. As far as we knew. But look how she wrangled an s into a c. Sorcery upon the King’s English. From a slither to a crack. A swallow to a crunch. She crafted XY by breaking the extra leg off of XX. She kept it for use as a magic wand. Whenever she wants she stirs the gender cocktail with it. Hell’s bells stand silent in respect for that badassery, that high-handed backhand. She’s the rockstar all the other performers are trying so hard to be.

And on the second sides, still rather strong.

Influential, she is a woman. She’s a personal assistant who is first in line to receive a subpoena to testify. She knows the things. She keeps the record of all the names of the people who can’t find me anymore because their emails bounce back. All the social media accounts got shut down and there is only one channel left open, the same old phone number. Those people who keep pinging the boarded windows, doors that were bricked over, she knows who they are. She knows what they hold in their pockets and purses. She sees the flash register on their faces when they bump into me on the street. They always ask the same question. Why don’t I? Why won’t I? And another name goes down in the record.

Lit Up. Between the bonfire and the glow, the glow is the most powerful and transformational over time because it is sustained on far less. And also because it is the first to be reignited. On far less. Another first in line for the serious business. Also a woman. Sooty on the underside. Miraculous every time.

— Mercy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s