This opportune moment, occurs at such a fragile time, uninhabited by others because all are too blind to notice.
Yellow streaks the blue walls with radiance, making the room glow with the soft resemblance of summer time. The constant pitter patter of tap water tears on the white tiles of the shower walls beckons me. Dry air to bare skin. Dry skin to the diamond droplets cascading from the silver spout above my head. I glow and glisten with the beauty of light. Warm diamond droplets hug my curves, I see what no one else sees, this bare beauty untouched by the commercial world.
For this moment I feel real, unscathed, and genuine. It is just me, the sun, water and a Sunday afternoon at four o’ clock. If only you could see, the body is such a masterpiece.
4-26-07
project
Running on Water
Ice bombs, rain like liquid nitrogen impaled his body; drops fell from the angry sky toward the cracked pavement. The heavens had been swallowed by fear and darkness, and he was next.
Move faster, run quicker and for God sakes, breathe softer.
His pulse was to the rhythm of the flashing red and blue lights he was running away from. His pounding heart hammered against his rib cages and pinched his lungs; reminding him of silver, cold handcuffs on the thin skin on his writs.
Not again, he breathed hot determination.
As the rain numbed his body, his tired feet crushed the pavement. With every step he headed toward an unknown destination, dodging shadows in the dark. Sticky tar engulfed the worn treads of his multicolored Chuck Taylors, grabbing at his ankles and twisting until his knees began to buckle in pain. Crimson hair plastered to his face, bleeding dye, sweat and rain into his hallow eyes. Dark brown hallow eyes that could break your will and mend your heart. His silhouette slithered the walls. The faded brick of the ally around him screamed with bright bold colors from the illegal artwork he had created the earlier in the week. The shrieks of the walls broke his steps, he would have covered his ears to stop the screaming but he knew it was all in his head. So he ran faster, away from the walls and bridges, away from the evidence.
My cell phone buzzed violently, threatening to wake up the members of the house I was currently residing. My hands fumbled with the pulsating phone as I stumbled out the guest bed of my Aunt and Uncles house. “Jesus Christ David, it is three thirty in the morning,” My voice was harsh and thick with the accent of sleep, “what do you want?”
“Come….” A pause, heavy breathing and the faint sound of sirens. “come and pick me up, Please. Broadripple, MacDonald’s, please ” His whisper was cut by quick breaths and large gusts of wind.
“Give me 10.” With my keys in hand, I faced the freezing rain and the dark of the spring night.
The dieing street light above my car blinked, losing strength every time it allowed the world to go dark around it. The passenger door clicked shut. David’s head rested on the back of the chair and his dark brown eyes scanned the gray skies through my sunroof. He was shaking from the bitter cold and disappearing fear inside of him. Along the chase he had lost a shoe, ripped his previously patched of jeans and left his favorite hoodie at the scene of the crime. His breathing filled the car and a humid fog covered my windshield, turning my small car into the perfect safe house.
“Oh David, David, David. What ever am I Going to do with you?” I turned to face him, but his eyes were still enchanted by the dark abyss above. The keys turned in the ignition and heat began to fill the car, whisking away the fog hiding our identities.
“Thank you.”
“I know david, I know. Relax. There are blankets at your feet.” My hand ran through his dripping hair and we exchanged tired smiles as the night turned to day.
Yellow streaks the blue walls with radiance, making the room glow with the soft resemblance of summer time. The constant pitter patter of tap water tears on the white tiles of the shower walls beckons me. Dry air to bare skin. Dry skin to the diamond droplets cascading from the silver spout above my head. I glow and glisten with the beauty of light. Warm diamond droplets hug my curves, I see what no one else sees, this bare beauty untouched by the commercial world.
For this moment I feel real, unscathed, and genuine. It is just me, the sun, water and a Sunday afternoon at four o’ clock. If only you could see, the body is such a masterpiece.
4-26-07
project
Running on Water
Ice bombs, rain like liquid nitrogen impaled his body; drops fell from the angry sky toward the cracked pavement. The heavens had been swallowed by fear and darkness, and he was next.
Move faster, run quicker and for God sakes, breathe softer.
His pulse was to the rhythm of the flashing red and blue lights he was running away from. His pounding heart hammered against his rib cages and pinched his lungs; reminding him of silver, cold handcuffs on the thin skin on his writs.
Not again, he breathed hot determination.
As the rain numbed his body, his tired feet crushed the pavement. With every step he headed toward an unknown destination, dodging shadows in the dark. Sticky tar engulfed the worn treads of his multicolored Chuck Taylors, grabbing at his ankles and twisting until his knees began to buckle in pain. Crimson hair plastered to his face, bleeding dye, sweat and rain into his hallow eyes. Dark brown hallow eyes that could break your will and mend your heart. His silhouette slithered the walls. The faded brick of the ally around him screamed with bright bold colors from the illegal artwork he had created the earlier in the week. The shrieks of the walls broke his steps, he would have covered his ears to stop the screaming but he knew it was all in his head. So he ran faster, away from the walls and bridges, away from the evidence.
My cell phone buzzed violently, threatening to wake up the members of the house I was currently residing. My hands fumbled with the pulsating phone as I stumbled out the guest bed of my Aunt and Uncles house. “Jesus Christ David, it is three thirty in the morning,” My voice was harsh and thick with the accent of sleep, “what do you want?”
“Come….” A pause, heavy breathing and the faint sound of sirens. “come and pick me up, Please. Broadripple, MacDonald’s, please ” His whisper was cut by quick breaths and large gusts of wind.
“Give me 10.” With my keys in hand, I faced the freezing rain and the dark of the spring night.
The dieing street light above my car blinked, losing strength every time it allowed the world to go dark around it. The passenger door clicked shut. David’s head rested on the back of the chair and his dark brown eyes scanned the gray skies through my sunroof. He was shaking from the bitter cold and disappearing fear inside of him. Along the chase he had lost a shoe, ripped his previously patched of jeans and left his favorite hoodie at the scene of the crime. His breathing filled the car and a humid fog covered my windshield, turning my small car into the perfect safe house.
“Oh David, David, David. What ever am I Going to do with you?” I turned to face him, but his eyes were still enchanted by the dark abyss above. The keys turned in the ignition and heat began to fill the car, whisking away the fog hiding our identities.
“Thank you.”
“I know david, I know. Relax. There are blankets at your feet.” My hand ran through his dripping hair and we exchanged tired smiles as the night turned to day.
