Of First Loves and High Heel Shoes

“First loves are high-heeled shoes,” he says. “They affect flesh and spirit—straighten spines, tighten thighs, make you walk like you own the galaxy. Your first changes you forever. No other will ever make you feel like I did.”

I watch him,

remember myself

wrapped in him.

“Once,” I tell him, “the sight of you pulled little moans out of my middle. The memory of us (skin-to-skin), your scent… made me want. But I don’t lust after the way I used to feel inside your body. First shoes are just shoes—perfect (once), but irrelevant after they no longer fit.”

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the wee notes…
– Linked to Friday Fictioneers. Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, to enjoy interesting tales. Then follow this LINK, to read what others have written about my old shoes.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, where our sweetest Sanaa invites us to write about love, using a common everyday image.

 

Rejoice in Your Bicycle of Light and Shadow, I’m Getting Rum

I was asked to write a poem about space and time and a story inspired by the silhouette of an old-fashioned bicycle. So, I wrote of imaginative physics, bicycles… rum and magic.

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“You are someone else’s memories dancing in the arms of chaos,” the angel says, “time, space, colors and taste are made of flesh.” I say nothing, but senses are communal in worlds made of fear or will—I feel her feel my sister’s chant, delight in smugness made of love’s thoughts. “Impossible,” she says, when black, red and the scent of spirits unmake her reality.

She tries to speak again, but I touch a warm finger to the light and shadow of her lips, and whisper, “Shhh, my sister is witching.”

“Out of dark
shadow and light, I
conjure rum.”

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a wee note…
– Linked to Friday Fictioneers. Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, to join the writing yum. Then follow this LINK, to read what others have conjured out of shadowy bikes. And if you are feeling poetic and daring, try Physics with Björn: Space time and the special theory of relativity, over at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

photo by Jellico’s Stationhouse

A Pristine Disappointment

Her “beauty[…] was the radiance of an opium-dream[…] Yet her features were not of that regular mould which we have been falsely taught to worship in the classical labors of the heathen.” ~ Edgar Allan Poe

Dear Master,

Although starting a letter with a quotation is unorthodox, I feel the words of your idol best describe the home I’ve secured for us. The house itself is a pristine disappointment. However, the lack of corruption mutilating our new walls will mean nothing after you glance upon the mad angel who lurks next door. I’ve included a sketch.

Your eternal servant,
Igor

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the wee notes…
– A house behind twisted trees (see below) made me think of my beloved Poe, and of his love for the gnarled and uncanny. I went digging for a piece out of Odessa Begay’s Edgar Allan Poe coloring book, which I colored in a rather imaginative way *cough*.
– Linked to Friday Fictioneers. Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, to join the fun. Then follow this LINK, to read what others have dragged from behind the fence.
– Linked to Prompt Nights ~ Fly (0ver) Friday.

inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s “Ligeia”
colored to mad life by moi

photo by J Hardy Carroll