Wednesday, January 16, 2019

Splinters

I used to press on lipstick,

Drag my lip through

All that useless sex talk. 

What the hell? I texted nobody,

Except what's-his-name with initials.

All the men lost to yellow chiffon,

Adrift in the terrible San Francisco Bay,

Lost in the Saint Francis lobby bathroom 

And I'm upstairs surely giving him up 

Taking the black man with white teeth

Matching my own spirit of flesh.

No one ever knew my number,

And I am weaker for it. And I am such a liar.

Sex talk isn't as useless as broken headboards.



12 comments:

  1. Woo HOO that was amazing. The feeling I am left with is very familiar. Excellent write!

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    Replies
    1. I’m glad it felt human :) Thanks for commenting Vi

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  2. Replies
    1. ‘Wow’ is for the subconscious writing itself, I like it when that happens

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  3. Oh my, it hits and hits hard at all the right places — how I relate with "all the men lost to yellow chiffon" and then "Sex talk isn't as useless as broken headboards". Wonderful writing.

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  4. Nice line: "All the men lost to yellow chiffon,"

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    Replies
    1. That’s kind of an unconscious insertion of self there — my profile name is Yellow Chiffon. It WAS supposed to be confessional, right?

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  5. Like the yellow chiffon being inserted making it confessional... still better than the broken headboards ...

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  6. I also like that yellon chiffon, so outwardly bright and confident despite broken headboards.

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  7. Weirdly, this left me with an earworm of an old (ancient) rockabilly tune called "Cat Talk." Anyway, you have a knack for describing things poetically, and not just saying them. The men lost to yellow chiffon, etc. You've always had the gift, girl.

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    Replies
    1. I’m glad to have more time to write again (all’s well until another adolescent crisis walks through my office door)...and I’m glad I have the time to read you again. I needed that

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