anybody.
I know we just met tonight but,
baby,
let me show you how to love me.
Forget taking off your clothes,
I’d rather fondle your phrases between my ears
than your breasts between my fingers.
And I’ll have you know that the man in me wants to seal the gap between your
lips with my own, but
the poet in me wants to pray that they stay open and moving for as long as possible.
The way you talk to me has my mind
throbbing,
aching to be pleased, to
explode and
release a load of
creativity.
Now baby,
I’m not with you to make you moan
no-
I want you to speak a different kind of English to me,
the kind where you scream “Oh” when it’s simply another vowel in another word in your poem,
and the circle that your lips become when you use those vowels can make me
shiver in pleasure without being around my
dick.
And I might be a pro at unhinging bra straps but with you
I’d rather unhinge mind straps,
so that the padded holster over the bosom of your thoughts can come loose and
I can stare in awe at what falls out.
You are so beautiful.
Don’t ruin it by shoving a polaroid of your naked self with untamed hair into my pocket “for later”,
I’d rather have a crumpled up piece of lined paper with your naked ideas jotted down in untamed ink.
And I hope we’ll go on a second date and I can take you out to dinner at the nicest place,
But,
when I walk you to your front door and you invite me in,
just remember: if you want to pretend, we can simply have sex
but if you want real love
you can fuck me with your words.
I should not have taken it with you.
The tabs that melted our tongues and made us come unglued.
When the trains to outer space stopped in my backyard, we both boarded.
Our eyes were massive black- lenses from which all your feelings were recorded.
We visited different planets that day
and when our trains came to pick us up, you decided to stay.
I miss you so much, I really do.
I should not have taken it with you.
I’ve decided that it was stupid of me to think of you as a fallen star-
that you are actually a flower and that’s exactly what you’ve been.
Why? -you might ask
Because people think flowers are beautiful.
Because flowers are either visited by bees and wasps with stingers, or by flittering butterflies-
but either way they are only visited briefly, and then they are alone again;
beautiful, and confused.
And most of all because I love flowers, I truly do.
And you are my favorite flower. And if I found you along the sidewalk outside of my heart, I would never dream to seperate your roots from the earth.
“The curtains that divide us”
by heather barker
______________________
PART I
“Annie?” a tiny whisper came from the bed next to her. “Annie, are you awake?” Annie rolled over to face Tommy.
“I am now, what’s the matter?” She tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness surrounding them. A tiny silver slit of light peeked through a hole in the makeshift curtain over the window. It was an old flame-retardant blanket nailed to the window frame. During the day you could see the cloth had stains and wear and tear, but at night it did the room justice by keeping the majority of the gleam of the street light not more than six feet from their bedroom window at bay.
“I thought I heard something. Did you hear it? I think there’s a monster,” Tommy uttered. His hot breath wrapped her face and she winced.
“Tommy, there’s no such thing as monsters, remember?” She buried her face into the pillow and closed her eyes shut.
“But Annie, I heard something!”
She knew he wasn’t going to go back to sleep unless she investigated, which meant she wasn’t going to get any either. Best to at least put on a show and pretend to check, hopefully reassuring her little brother that everything really was alright.
“Alright Tommy. I’ll go look. You stay here and don’t you worry. Let’s make a bet,” she spoke quietly as she sat up and pulled her pant leg down. The pants were too short on her to begin with, as was the case for most all of her clothing. If it wasn’t too tight or too short, then it was too big or too long.
“If I find any monsters, we’ll eat chocolate donuts for breakfast in the morning.” By now, her eyes had adjusted just enough to the shadows and could clearly see her six year old brother’s eyes widen and a smile spread across his cheeks.
“But if I don’t find any monsters and I get up for no reason, you have to wash the breakfast dishes. I know how much you hate washing dishes.” At this, the smile disappeared.
“Do you still want me to go look for that monster?” She knew there was only a tiny chance he’d actually change his mind, but she wanted sleep so badly, it was worth the shot.
As luck would have it, the sound of breaking glass came from outside just then. Tommy nodded his head instantaneously and brought the thin sheet up to his chin as if to protect him. She sighed heavily as she stood up. She knew the sound likely came from some crocked patron from the bar below their apartment; such things weren’t exactly uncommon during the night.
Still, she knew she had to reassure Tommy if either of them were to be expected to get up and ready for school on time. The digital read-out of the clock that sat on a milk crate next to the bed they shared revealed that it was 2:48 in the morning. She didn’t understand why they referred to it as morning; it was clearly dark outside. But such things weren’t really worth her curiosity. Right now, she had a job to do. ‘Annie to the rescue,’ she thought to herself. She walked to the window and pulled the blanket to the side to take a look out at the street outside their bedroom. Their apartment resided on the intersection of a busy street with a concrete divider and another not-so-busy street that lead into a more residential area of town.
Down below she could see a couple embraced against the brick building that shaped their home. They were oblivious to her watchful eye, doubly confirmed when the man’s hand pulled down the woman’s blouse, revealing a dark lace bra. The man bent down and nuzzled the woman’s breasts, groping and feeling her up and down. The woman’s head fell back in ecstasy; her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent cry of pleasure.
“Do you see anything?” The question from behind her jolted Annie back to the moment.
She quickly let go of the blanket and let it fall back into place, hiding the couple from her view. Their actions remained fixed in her memory though, and she blushed in embarrassment. She knew she shouldn’t have spied on the two; she was much too young to understand. Even still, she’d seen far too many similar situations already in just the eleven years of her life. Shaking her head she paced towards the door of their bedroom.
“No monsters out there. Let me check this way.” She reached for the brass doorknob, glanced back at her little brother.
“Stay here and stay quiet. We don’t want to wake up Mom.” He nodded and lay back down.
She took quick inspection of the rest of their tiny apartment. The floors creaked below her feet and she felt the dust and sand catch on her bare feet. In the kitchen she could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the plop-plop-plop sound of the leaking faucet. On the counter there were several glass bottles ranging in size and color, some half full, some empty, scattered around empty glasses. One glass had the red imprint of lips along the ri
m, likely her mother’s. Annie sighed.
Her mother had friends over the night before and forgotten to clean up after herself, another frequent occurrence. She put the half full bottles in the freezer and the empty ones in the large black trash bag in the corner that served as their garbage. They never had an actual trash can, just these giant black bags. One day, when she was old enough to have her own house, Annie thought to herself, she’d have a trash can. And curtains. And nightstands and dressers and her own bed. A queen sized bed with a thick white comforter, maybe even one filled with feathers. She’d never touched one, but she imagined they were divine.
In the living room she found a man sleeping on the orange couch that took up almost an entire wall of the room. She didn’t recognize him, or at least she didn’t think so. There wasn’t much light for her to see with, so it was hard to tell. He snored loudly, with each breath he made, there was such a long pause before letting it back out. So long, that Annie was convinced that at any moment, he might actually stop breathing and die right there on their couch.
She took another step into the room, causing the floor to release a loud squeal, protesting her weight. The man jerked his leg out and Annie ran out of the room. She did not want to wake this stranger… she knew that not everyone woke up friendly. She silently crept back down the hallway, passed the bedroom she shared with her brother and peered into her mom’s room.
Her mother had one of those lava lamps, the ones where when left on long enough, neon green bubbles would float from the bottom to the top in this yellowish liquid, then they would fall back to the bottom, where the bubble would liquefy and regroup, then repeat the cycle. The light from the lamp gave the room a dull lime green glow. Her mother lay in bed, fast asleep, with another man Annie was positive she had never seen before. Men didn’t seem to stick around here.
Her mom often exclaimed that had she never had children, she’d be able to find a good man worth keeping around. But alas, Annie and Tommy were bloodsuckers and sucked all the fun out of their mother’s life. Annie didn’t care much that the men didn’t stick around. They weren’t usually that nice anyways. They yelled at her and her brother all too often, or they simply pretended they weren’t there. There were a few nice ones in the past.
One guy, Nick, would bring them new movies to watch on the television. He’d play cards with them and tell Tommy jokes. He told them he loved them, especially Annie. He told Annie that she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and if she acted just right and could keep a secret, he’d show her what love really was. What it was like to be a woman. But he stopped coming around one day after their mom came home and found Nick locked in her bedroom with Annie.
Annie didn’t understand what the big deal was. It was the first time a man told her he loved her. She blamed her mom for being jealous because he loved her more. When the cops came to talk to Annie about it, she kept her word and didn’t tell them anything. She knew that if she told them their secret, he would never love her again.
Annie turned back towards her bedroom. When she came back to bed, Tommy had already fallen back to sleep. She crawled into the bed next to him, careful not to wake him. She grabbed the corner of the sheet and tried to pull it over herself. She realized Tommy had completely wrapped himself in it; if she tried to pry it from him so she could have some for herself, she would wake him again. So she turned back over, stared at the hole in the blanket covering the window and thought of the two lovers she had seen below. That night she dreamed of growing up and having a husband like Nick and her own two children. They would love each other and have a house that felt like home. They would have a yard outside and not a parking lot. They would have trash cans and real curtains.
______________________
PART II
“I’ll be home by six. The Shedlocks and Mr. McCartney should be arriving shortly afterwards. Have our best bottle of Shiraz ready.” Richard’s smooth voice rang through the receiver. “You should put
on that black dress I brought you last week? The one with the long sleeves?”
“Yes. Everything will be ready. Don’t worry Hun, I won’t disappoint you.” Anne anxiously glanced at the clock on the overhead microwave. She had three more hours to work with. “Anything else?”
“No, that’ll be all. I’ll see you at six. Do not forget how important this dinner is. I need this deal.”
Click.
Anne set the phone back in its cradle and washed her hands to prep dinner. Everything was going to be alright. She had everything planned out and would not let her husband down. She couldn’t. Get dinner started, clean, freshen herself up, and set the table. Simple enough. She opened the cabinet closest to the oven to remove a large sauté pan and set it on the stovetop. She then pulled out her measuring cups and spoons from the utensil drawer and placed those on the large marble countertop she had to work with. Blowing a stray piece of hair out of her eyes she glanced around her kitchen. It really was a lovely space.
The room was designed with rich, warm tones that gave easy elegance and clean lines. The cabinetry was made of a beautiful English Yew, similar in color to American Cherry. Butt-board paneling on the walls gave the room a signature look for the low-country style she and her husband wanted and the cabinetry’s flat panel door style blended right in. A 48” range took the center stage beneath the mantle while the Sub Zero refrigerator was set back into paneling. Symmetrical doors to the left and right of the refrigerator opened to either the walk-in pantry or the laundry room. In the center of the room was an island painted the color of antique linen white that kept the room feeling light and airy. Counter-height bar stools made of rich brown leather complete the kitchen design and added a welcoming feeling, though she had no friends or family of her own to share the space with.
Getting back to the task at hand, Anne gathered the ingredients she needed for the stuffed lobster she was baking for tonight’s big dinner. She began to melt the butter in the sauté pan and added the shallots over a medium heat until they began to soften. She added the garlic and the sherry and let it simmer for a minute or so before removing from the heat. She added the crabmeat, crumbs and seasoning. She turned the dial on the oven to 350˚F so that it could preheat while she prepared the rest of the lobster. After carefully selecting a large knife, she placed the lobsters on a cutting board and split them in half, removing the sand sac from the head and the black intestinal vein. She took off the claw bands and cracked the claws with a cooking hammer and placed the lobsters on a large baking sheet and sprinkled the stuffing mixture from the sauté pan over the tail and bodies then finished them off by drizzling with melted butter. She opened the oven, careful to avoid the blast of heat that escaped, and delicately placed the baking sheet on the center rack. She set the timer on the oven for thirty minutes and washed her hands in the deep sink.
Anne let out a deep sigh, glancing back at the microwave’s clock. Two hours left. Time to walk through and make sure the house was in the most presentable state possible. Any sign of dust or something out of its place would be noticed by Richard, and she could not afford to take that chance. The living room had a contemporary yet comfortable feel to it. Two long lush gray couches sat on either side of the room facing each other, separated only by a large chic glass coffee table. The table displayed a large vase of roses that complemented the two burgundy arm chairs that took up the far wall. Anne always kept a fresh copy of The New York Times and a small variety of business magazines for her husband’s reading pleasures. She checked the glass to make sure there were no prints or streaks or any imperfections. Behind the two arm chairs were built in shelving units that housed a variety of knick-knacks and family photos. The largest photo was of her and Richard on their wedding day, nearly seven years ago.
He had been a loving man then. She and he had met the year prior at Aspen Marketing. She had been interning for a position with the company, hoping that someday she would make it to creative director. Richa
rd had been the company’s advertising campaign manager, having been there for three years already. She occasionally had to sit in on meetings and had caught Richard’s eye. Richard used to tell her that seeing her in the offices brightened his days and made each workday worthwhile. She fell in love with him almost instantly. He made her feel like the most beautiful woman alive and would shower her with attention and gifts – far from the lifestyle she had growing up. She no longer had to work and instead could spend her days doing whatever it was that pleased her. Richard claimed it wasn’t right of him to expect her to work when it was his responsibility to care for them.
The first hit had come eight months into their marriage. Her brother Tommy had gotten into a horrible car accident. He had been drinking and had crashed his car into a traffic post, practically wrapping the entire front end around the post. Anne wanted to help her brother get better medical treatment since he had no insurance at the time, but Richard said that it was Tommy’s own fault he hadn’t taken better care of himself and his actions. When Anne protested, claiming that it was hardly his fault considering the way the two of them were raised, Richard had slapped her clear across the face.
“Your brother is a good for nothing drunk that will never rise to become anything. You grew up in the same circumstances, and look at you! You managed to snag me, ME of all people! Don’t you dare compare yourself to that worthless little shit!”
Anne grabbed the small framed photo of her and Tommy from the shelf before her. It was her graduation day from The Illinois Institute of Art. Tears threatened to spill as she studied her brother’s smile. He had been the only family she had left at the time and had been the only person at her ceremony. Their mother had died when Anne was nineteen, Tommy only fourteen. They never knew their father or any other extended family, if they had one. Anne had to work two jobs and go to school on scholarship just to make ends meet. Tommy eventually moved out when he was seventeen, claiming he was only dragging her down to support him. Eventually, he had started to go down the same path of their mother – drinking, fighting, drugs, and he never once tried to settle down with a woman. Anne had often wondered how they ended up so different. But she had Richard to thank for most of that. She had everything she could ever dream of, right here with him. Things weren’t perfect, but she couldn’t imagine a life without him.
Thoughts from the Rock Page 3
