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A Smile of Bone I demand an explanation. Yesterday's sunshine lit the darkest recesses of my honeycombed synapses like light that strikes a cathedral's stone bound altar with gold. New hope flitted hummingbird-like, failure to failure, drinking lessons from each morbid cup. I demand an explanation. All felt lovely, cased in a velvet sheen with no threat of peeling off. Yet so it has- and beneath is brittle, ugly bone. Today, 20 degrees, night fell on afternoon with a resounding silence quite unlike Spring; I stumbled through too many dreams alone into public like some psycho Robert Lowell, all new perspective lost in the shallow grief of loneliness and watched the students dance out of the bar and into each other's orifices over a cooling cup of coffee. My bones clutched the cup, my flesh swallowed smoke as a sorority girl divulged to me a smile of bone, bulging flesh painfully stretching her veined skin. Explain why visions of soft bodies curved in inspired rhythms struck me then, with a wet slap like a banana peel across the cheek. Profusions of over-luscious breasts, cherry-aureola peaked like a sundae, smothered washboard stomachs. The chocolate mounds below whispered their dank mysteries. It's unjust to undress the whole mass of bodies jammed in the bar rush for my eyes. Yesterday, so many sweet hypocrisies slithered unperceived behind the oh-too-perfect scenes. I applaud this facade that swathes the soul with skin. To see below to bone, a meticulous map of sin, is too foolhardy for one so image fooled as me. What, what forced me to chart each light chat, look beyond the core to darkness where blood pumped more air to each pair of lying lips? Tell me; I'll buy it all and burn it. Those brains must have withered smothered in the hairspray that fakes airy mountains on each girl's expensive scalp. Brain must feed muscle as fat hardens with beer in arm-wrestling boors slamming Coors with funnels down yearning gullets. Nothing is worse than to look beyond the mask, and find nothing. Why steal innocent illusions of truth, take the naturally floral view I mistake, and crush it? I demand an explanation.
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