On occasion I like to display work from other writers who are talented and too goddamned afraid to show anyone their work. I have a friend on the West Coast who was introduced to me as a writer, but this is both my and your first time seeing her writing...and I've known her for more than a year. I met her at a cook-out, then a house party, then a warehouse electro blastspot in LA. I didn't know she would be at any of them. And then we had coffee and made love with our words in LB. This prose-poem is about a boy she described as 'mad', in the British sense.
Without further ado.
"SAME WORD DYSTROPHY
Back to the West with that ever-present aching in my heart, missing you and your 1.23 decency and the fact that you are not the kind to speak.
But what we ultimately share is inevitable, the glimpses of madness from a distance
As we saunter into the big vacations and the lonely synthesized sunsets
And we may never see each other again, because what I see as discrete you see as evident, and because I know no other form of obtaining you, I am going to suck you into some web that also entangles me and makes us ultimately separated.
We are simultaneously stuck.
And I am in agony over you.
The tubs that we never spent together
And the nights that we shared staring rather scandalously into the other
And I will eternally resent you as I rest my head upon said pillow, to evade the fact that it actually said something, and departed from the discretion that you appreciated once. And now you have left and I have left and it is up to no one to make us see each other again. So goodnight, no dreams for you, no waves of admiration or hurt, nothing for you but my own volition."
We were both quite drunk when this was written. The ellipsis signifies when I thought she was flirting with me and neglected to gather the words before FBchat stole them. She said that this story wasn't sexual. Spiritual maybe?
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