Thursday, December 27, 2007


The feeling came back around the holiday, the claustrophobic feeling of losing her freedom; to feel bored to the point of madness, bursting into chaotic statements. She sat another day, with him who is preparing her, judging her, scrutinizing the way she snores after wine; to determine if the noise could one day become too tiresome; if that snore would eventually peel layers of flesh, hours of precious moments of dreams and lazy sleep in mornings where coffee is priority within the waking hour and it will always be this way, she sees: the outline of everything everyday and forever-mimicking his invisible army assertives, general declarations of validity.

This calm was too quiet for her. His honest eyes too easy for noise.

Her heart races only for sustenance anymore and it's silent. In its calm: her morals die as myths, ethics for people subdued or pretending, or lost in trying to do the right thing.

The racehorse is calm and eats apples under green fields of perfect temperature'd sunshine, within a fence large enough to hold 2.5 kids, a porch swing and a tomato garden.

Its mind is useless somehow, now that there's no where to run but in circles of oblivion, in every morning coffee and the way she scrubs her tub, her teeth, the dishes, the floor.

Within slow leaks exposing the interior design, when exteriors veneer'd for purposes of aesthetic allure show true sentiment in weathering,

porch swings creak like hell but they say, it's part of the charm, and smile, while in her mind it's a terrible noise; and as her body rocks like pendulum, she asks herself these questions:

where would I be without these patterns of obscurity, time bombs of chaos and happiness and misery going off everywhere unexpectedly?

must all my comfort's reek of failure?

if I run away will it follow me?

And decides hypotheticals are ridiculous reasons to worry, when one chooses not to hear the answer anyway.


steve d said...

it IS part of the charm. i really liked the car ride during this one, i thought we were going to some hill overlooking the city and you were going to confide something, but then you swerved down a side street and we ended up at the arcade.

Arabela said...

Great work.

Sabra Embury said...


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