Secret Mojo Dumbs It Down for You

August 27, 2006

Blank prose

Filed under: Naked Crunch,writing — secretmojo @ 10:41 am

Bah. Sometimes I suppose a person just can’t write for shit.

Instead, I will dust off one of these old Naked Crunches of mine, trim it up a little, and deliver it without a care.

(warning: disturbing imagery)

Tenderness at the Burgundy Rapture

We’d—meaning Aji and me—let our hairs touch in a game of our own invention, “Laudation,” always carried out secretly at cafés.

In broad daylight was our favorite time to do it. In front of others was even better. Surreptitiously naughty, the back of my arm hair met the electric of hers. With skin apart, feel burned pure.

Exquisite, our table games. Laudation became our secret dialogue. Arms “lackadaisically” positioned upon the table, we projected and received the flow of emotions, mutual admiration, lust and annoyance — all hidden in the prickling of our hairs. We indulged in the varieties of silence, sipping tea and flirting with the language of eye contact, before the window explodes and shards rake through our cheeks.

A wide-open dumbfounded look upon her face: is this really happening? From tenderness to horror in microseconds, we are blasted out of the world. This is our consummation. No marriage, no proposal, plenty of flirt yet no coitus, we lingered too long upon the hope of the future, the backs of our arms never/always touching as we sipped our tea.

But this moment, birthed in anguish by someone who felt wronged, someone who gave herself to God or Jellyfish Ultra, or someone who thought they were saving us from ourselves, serves upon us in sprinkling, tinkling glass burning fresh in burgundy, an end to romance.

Aji’s face splits open in an unnatural twist of flesh.

I regret we never kissed.

Her eye divides in two.

Maybe we’re sideways on the floor. Maybe we’re airborne. Darkness swells about me, confusing my perception. I think, “the politicians will never know the tenderness we delivered today. Instead they will ride our deaths like a horse to power.”

Aji smiles minutely through her facial destruction. She is happy I’m next to her at this moment. I want to smile back, but I have no jaw.

Minutes ago, we teased each other. Which particular body part might our wrinkles grow on first? We expected to die together in old age.

But this day, with all its faults, isn’t so bad.

Black.

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2 Comments »

  1. Very interesting short-short story, really. Well done!

    Comment by fencer — August 27, 2006 @ 9:30 pm | Reply

  2. Thank you, fencer (blush). I still do not like the lead-in, and want to cut the first paragraph altogether; but it’s a Naked Crunch, what’m I gonna do? Polish it to death?

    Comment by secretmojo — August 29, 2006 @ 7:04 am | Reply


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