The girl who caught the moon

[jack_babalon]

The moon stumbled drunk into your trap. Captured, floating on the surface of a shard of glass that you left on the windowstill, where it waited for my fingers should I ever attempt to climb back into your life. Cloaked in the darkness of an unpaid electric bill you pounced on the glass-trap from a bed you've never slept in. Held up your newfound prize high in the air, doing a little monkey dance on the balls of your feet and smiling with rotten teeth. Finally, when you were all alone and sure that no one was watching, or listening in, or reading your diary, or dropping your name, or using you as the body double in some flesh sick power fantasy, then, and only then did you take the glass like a dagger and skin the dirty t-shirt from your chest and sliced in half the Gordian knot of your panties. You raised the fragment to your lips, and with the tip of your tongue licked the disc and tasted bone. Dung beetle thoughts crawling all over you, a hundred thousand little legs making you shudder and giggle and raw skin goes numb and you're on the surface of the moon where you lay back on the dust and open your legs and tell the Sun that he's not man enough to satisfy these filthy hungers gnawing in your belly. You lift your hips to the stars and press your palm over your sex and dream hard of the heavens above.
You wake up on the floor and when you rise you can see the snow angel you left in the dirt below. The cockroaches flee at the rumblings of your first steps, where you walk to a flashbulb bright window, pull down a shade thin as paper and on instinct alone fine the toliet. Sitting there, because the view is as good as any other room, you ponder the dried blood running down the length of your wrist, a brittle map of a red river whose shores sparkle with crushed glass. When you close your eyes and you can still taste bone and the stars inside you.

Comments

[catwalk.livejournal.com]

this both frightened and fascinated me...