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Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Lights on.

Lights on.
(10-12-09)


There are things better left in the dark. The Unforgiveable. Perhaps the unspeakable debauchery that takes place where no eyes can watch. Sometimes I like to live in dark shadows and observe in silence. People behave differently in the dark versus the light. The boundaries of personal inhibition seem to drift away. There are no lines to cross between good and bad. The couple in the corner of the alley seems to be quite at ease in a fiery embrace as their hands fall into play. Hardly suspecting that exposure is out there, the twosome find comfort in this dark corner. His hands gently moving up her leg beneath her skirt and hers gently caress the small of his back and find haven below his belt line as his trousers fall. The darkness seems to have a way with deceiving the mind. No one is watching this pair assumes as the moment continues and less restraint is shown. Silently, I go unnoticed beneath the fire escape in the blackness of the night. The coupled breathing becomes shallow and erratic until there is nothing. Darkness as I find my way back into the night.

What you can not see, is still happening. Why hide in shadows? Let the mind experience the freedom of seeing all that is happening. To blind one is akin to deafening the sound of music. The tactile pleasure of a moment should be seen and absorbed by the human eye in vivid clarity. Savoring the light upon the human skin as the illumination brings out the true colors intended by nature. The glow of warm skin in the oversized spotlights reflects such vibrancy. Even the light is fooled by the absence of life. Porous empty flesh, vacant of the elixir of life, still has brightness within it. The white lifeless body, which lies before me upon sheets of canvas, seems almost alive in the brightness of the room.

Out hunting among hoards and hoards of people in the square on this dark and rainy night, I’m finding that there are hundreds to choose from. Almost immediately I chose one. He was different than the others. Special. Not like anyone I had ever seen. The darkness of the night couldn’t hinder the glow of his white skin. I followed him quietly through shadows, hiding in corners as he walked slowly ahead. My hidden dance among the shadows became increasingly erratic as his path departs from the crowds and small recesses of the square into tiny avenues. The streetlights shine brightly on the red cobblestone that marks this neighborhood. I manage to travel a safe distance behind, finding shelter between stairwells and fences. It isn’t long before he reaches a destination. He descends the stairs of a shoddy building with a metal security door. Hurriedly I quicken my step as he fumbles for keys. Removing my scarf, and grabbing at the dagger hidden within my blouse, I pounce from behind. My dagger intently pierces and slices his throat from ear to ear. At once I’m pushing him to the ground with my entire body. Struggling through our descent, his hands are pushing against my face and breasts as I stick him again in the chest. We find brief stillness in the shadow as the moment is abruptly brightened by a motion sensitive light. Life and blood spill out onto the wet stairwell. Exposed for all to see. The color of blood is unusually subdued in this yellowish haze surrounding the scene. White skin has the unusual yellow pallor of sickness, and pools of blood take on an eerie blackness.

This porcelain saint seems to be in a quiet slumber rather than eternal rest. Its as though the life in his body remains despite the absence of an essence. Such peace is in his face. Angelic. There is such beauty in light, as I can not seem to catch my breath or look away. Touch is intensified by the warmth and brightness of the room. The softness of skin still remains as my fingers examine the thin lines of his face. Every tactile response has deepened meaning with sight. Capturing the moment of death in this man has eluded me. Perfection. This is truly a masterpiece to be cherished and savored with the lights on.


This is a repost. From last year. October. It felt appropriate as I came lights out of a crazy weekend. Which involved some mischief. Yet, no one was slapped this time. Or so I'm told. Anyhow, I wanted to give you new, but I'm not up to edit, proof, da-da-dah tonight. Amidst the rooms project. This has been fun and I've been keeping a working journal that I might share. There most likely will be two new up soon. The third... wait for April. *hint. There is a lot of stuff held back and so much I'm in the middle of. It is hands down the most I've ever tackled at once, but I'm confident this will be worth it, when I'm finished. Enjoy this if you've never read it. Night. M.

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