July 3, 2006

Choked

Posted in Poetry at 11:42 pm by Kristiina

I rained down here from space, I swear.

Fled from men in uniforms
double-dosed and staggering.
“Fine me up,” I said
to the wind, waving whiskey hands.

I did defend my actions
to the tired-faced pursuit; “Hold on, Miss,”
they said. “We’re not done with you!”
I stumbled to an alleyway, choked.

   You’re a whisper now,
   a madness with these stormcloud eyes.

You drew figures on my back;
escape routes, back doors, plans.
Abandoned boatsheds were our homes,
abandoned reason filled our time.

   Higher, farther, the wind blows
   the shreds of my paint-spilled shirt.

“No, these are not my people,”
I explained to wounded photographs.
“To crowded squares I came,
I rained down here from space, I swear.”

They sentenced me to solitude
and fictional homes. As crowds brushed up
against my self-inflicted pristine skin,
my thighs sighed contempt.

They had watched me rebel, silent now.
Famished for your moth-shaped cheeks,
grin-filled coyote teeth, smells of earth
and busy fingers, dripping paint.

   “Good morning, Miss; hold on now
   while I fill your name tag
   with the substance for the day.”

 

July 2, 2006

Chance

Posted in Story Scrapbook at 11:04 pm by Kristiina

I dreamt of dragonfire thundering through the veins of the wind. Lightning struck the sand and rocks next to me, giving birth to crystals, liquid and languid as the face of the sea. Granite pulsed and coughed in the heat. Sweating silver, it was painted monochrome like a broken caleidoscope, a few chips at a time.

I walked on hot coals and they turned into a sunrise, swelling under my feet and above the clouds. Horizon tipped over and played catch with the skeleton of a half-sunken ship, as I picked molten sea shells from the sand, turned them into dice, and rolled sixes. One after another they fell, six after six after six, and they burst into flames as they landed. One after another, I rolled the dice and watched luck spark up.