Pang

I cannot eat what eats itself. You are in no danger. I scraped you, pulled you from the clenched trachea. Watched you slither in eerie accordance with the much too harsh wind; my malnourished cousin who came in on particles of limestone and marbled ether. Who from secrecy, leapt in enormous baths of seaweed, gobsmacked entirely by the arithmetic of displaced longing. I held you unknowingly. A decrepit germ. 

You are in no danger. You are no fetal maggot. Though torture your philosophy, I do not outright denounce you. I dream. I dream of holding knives to you as I fold in blankets of me holding knives to you. I dream of the parasite perspective. I dream of your throat. I give in to an imaginary incision. There are seven hearts, none of them beating. There are whistling cannibals giving handshakes on channel 3. There are basements of disembodied torsos. There are long gowns and bare shins. There are sex trafficked children being taught English. And there I am, reflected in a blade. I shake my hand and awaken.

The tail's been eliminated from this realm. You are yours. Rounded flesh makes for the door. I’ve tasted my fist, I understand. Have abducted it on occasion; as child, and as man. But now I’m neither. I am an octahedron on the arm of a loveseat paging through books about others’ fists. I ponder prison as your limblessness hits me. There will be no escape. Tonight you’re mine completely.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Okay, I was completely "gobsmacked" by this. Like some intense, gory, twisted love story.
but we have to be asleep and in the nightmare to find ourselves in this realm.
Wait, let me fall asleep, and then i can watch the story unfold, more closely.
"sex trafficked children being taught English" an interesting line.
only the sophisticated ones will have allure for the perverted ones who want them.
I like the whole fist idea...indecision, self-loathing, we eat our fists in disgust...
then we wonder how others like us feel...so we read about their fists, their trafficking, their hearts that don't beat, and we wonder why ours do.
j.

[Ty]

Thank you so much.

You always come at what I write from a completely different perspective than what I had envisioned and it helps me a great deal. I can pour over word choice and rhythm to such a degree that I end up in stagnation sometimes. I think this is because I want to develop some kind of "understanding" to the reader. That something begins "here" and then ends "over here". But this understanding isn't accomplished in linear fashion, it happens in the realms of the readers own subjective association more often than not.

Don't know if I'm making sense here...

In short, you honestly inspire me to let go a little bit. That "perfect" word, or this and that.

I appreciate the review and hope you and your family are well. :)