Hands behind glass, disarray in head, smell of starched grins, and blur of clocks camouflage time. Who says a castle can’t rant out a whole orgy of bible, room by room? His kids say he slit the Dahlia into a narrative. Peopled by the blue transparency of her veins, pulled up to the skin like someone’s lower lip. Slow and deranged martinis guide themselves in clear missiles toward mouths vacant with ruin. The gowned throng spend ample time on upper lids and toenails, depleting energy for the thrill of taunting the hacked starlet.
Prepubescent girls flavor rooms for Man Ray and a swirl with the surreal tracks of hollow. Remixing their angled limbs, terror manifests a floral creature in wait for bulb and burial. Powders blossom in bubbled drinks, rumble distant worlds saturated with adult tongues for hands. Doors lurk sleepy, teeming how little breath is needed to bruise, bleed.
In this castle, mornings never bleary plundered deaths. Flesh and bones zone out, fiddle with zippers and tremors. Damn if somebody isn’t leaking horrors of childhood. Men decree motion, play with their trousers and find other men. Girls climb through sabotage, bend into each other.
A table displays the supremacy of defects. Men who dread desperation, load up plates with sausage and ham. Fresh in wrinkles and grimaces they rush to the basement of denial. Girls crumpled with rashed thighs and blazing rectums drink orange juice, huge with the plunge of the sea.
Someone dies. Someone sucks pipes and yells fuck off. Someone lies when police arrive. Someone cries, eats and purges for days. Someone haunts their self and the quiet sky that follows them. Someone has no desire to exist.
Meg Tuite is author of a novel-in-stories, Domestic Apparition, a short story collection, Bound By Blue, and won the Twin Antlers Collaborative Poetry award for her poetry collection, Bare Bulbs Swinging, as well as five chapbooks of short fiction, flash, and poetic prose. She teaches at Santa Fe Community College, is a senior editor at Connotation Press, an associate editor at Narrative Magazine, fiction editor here at Bending Genres Journal, and editor of eight anthologies. Her work has been published in numerous literary magazines, over fifteen anthologies, nominated nine times for the Pushcart Prize, five-time Glimmer Train finalist, placed 3rd in Bristol Prize, and Gertrude Stein award finalist. Her blog: http://megtuite.com.