Silverfish
Billowing hemline. Dazzling bright. The Chandelier splintered, blinding my eyes. I stumbled into her sleepless continuum, her beauty--that drunken life. We might have danced too fast, swung too much. I could not feel my legs, neither could I recall myself kissing her goodbye.
I then woke up to her naked back, half veiled by the sheets. What a night.
How did we end up here? Duvets on the floor. Undress. My head, piercing. I wanted to drink. I wanted to leave. Jeanine is waiting for me.
Honey, why are you up this early? Her eyes squinted, waken, she reached for my arm.
I gotta go. I have work this morning. My temple throbbed. I went off the bed and oriented myself to the bathroom. She got up with me.
I shut the door and leaned onto the sink. What was her name again? My face was green, like the bottles by the TV. I splashed some cold water onto my face. The suds with silver droplets outside its body.
She screamed.
What is this woman’s problem? Wailing like a shrink.
John! What the hell did you do? She stormed in, naked.
Ah! Is it Evelyn? Her name is Evelyn. She has those freckles on the cheek.
Look at me! You Sucker! Violently, (why is she angry like this?) She pulled my chin toward her.
Do you remember what happened last night? She had those blazing eyes, like the glistening fish scales under the afternoon sunlight.
Her lips shivered. She wanted to say something, yet she retched before she could. Pushing me away, she vomited into the sink.
Now I saw the red on her slender limbs. Like rose petals, like ribbons, like blood.
What is this woman’s problem?
The obsession with neat.