Moments, too, can be clumsy: it's an interesting time we live in--our bodies can tell us we're still inside. A photo of you, beside your younger sister, rests in my flat palm, both your eyes stare in the same direction, what you see almost pushing you to profile, a praline in my mouth. I'm looking at this image of you, and it looks away, elsewhere. It will never look back. When the shutter dropped, what you saw was out of view--the camera tells us nothing, You guys look like you've been through taxidermy, I say. Your faces, white as a conspiracy theory, glint up at me; whatever it was you saw, it held you there. Other than that, I don't need any more compliments, not in this lifetime, oh no. Last night you said, If you and Madonna were having a war. A war of outfits, she would just look at yours, and crumble like Dorothy's Witch. Her outfit wouldn't stand up to yours. You'd win, hands down. The outfit is just too great. Now this, coming from a gay man, has, frankly, single-handedly eliminated my need to ever be complimented again. All other compliments given me will crumble in fear, shame and inadequacy, like Dorothy's Witch. Hands down. Though, I can't believe you said that: I've never blushed so hard in my life. (!)
ps,
"Words", Anne Sexton
Be careful of words,
even the miraculous ones.
For the miraculous ones we do our best,
sometimes they swarm like insects
and leave not a sting but a kiss.
They can be good as fingers.
They can be trusty as the rock
you stick your bottom on.
But they can be both daisies and bruises.
Yet I am in love with words.
They are doves falling out of the ceiling.
They are six holy oranges sitting in my lap.
They are the trees, the legs of summer,
and the sun, its passionate face.
Yet often they fail me.
I have so much I want to say,
so many stories, images, proverbs, etc.
But the words aren't good enough,
the wrong ones kiss me.
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
but with the wings of a wren.
But I try to take care
and be gentle to them.
Words and eggs must be handled with care.
Once broken they are impossible
things to repair.