Friday, February 11

A single man and coagulated blood

A fist full of Tramadol, I swallowed without letting a single worried voice consern me. Just like high school.

These streets of scandinavia's most nihilistic but beautiful city is filled with crisp with snow. Headlines tells us not to leave our homes, but I dont have one. I arrived yesterday, naked under my grand mothers rabbit fur. The paleness of my skin slowly turned less white and more blue for every second spent outside. No bag, just a passport cigarettes and cash.
The freckled girl behind the bar gave me a disturbed look when I ordered my plum wine, they dont have any but they have a lot of port she answers. Thats not the same. Would you sleep with someone less attractive, less understanding, less educated just becaue that is the only option left when you know someone so much better is somewhere out there? She shrugged. I emptied the glas of port anyway. This is not an exit.

Four minuts blanc, not a second more, I rested for four minuts in a pile of snow. And you where there, wearing black. Removing wine stains below my lips with your thumb. Lifting me up, you almost tripped. But you didn't, you stayed stable. You kissed my left eyebrow. Dreams are nothing but a reflection of what we want. And I want that, an stable rock who sometimes almost fall to the ground.

And the second before my eyes opened again, and I realized that I am nowhere near stable. That must have been why he fell.

11 comments:

Sher said...

What a wonderful storyteller you are.

Rudie Wilderness said...

lots of love to you my friend, the author.

xx
rudie

AVY said...

I love how you relate plum wine to education <3

Tabs A. Geek said...

This post gave me a chill. Not sure why.

Beautiful. I like the comparison between lower standards and the drink.

Claire said...

I enjoy your storytelling and commitment to your art. It's amazing that you're carrying through with the silver thread of this story.

Cass. said...

"Dreams are nothing but a reflection of what we want"

Belle,
do you think it's wrong to dream?

alabee said...

Thank you for the sweetest comment. It cant be true, but I appreciate it anyway.

Your blog is fascinating. Disturbing yet incredibly beautiful.

Melee said...

Your writing has a hazy, almost dream-like quality. Quite beautiful and interesting.

Christopher said...

You know those things in the playground? Teeter-totters I think they're called. One kid sits on one side, the other on the opposite. They go up, they go down. But as it all sort of averages out you're both kind of in the middle, leveled. That's the sort of relationship I want.

A little off-topic, but that's what came to mind.

Francesca said...

you write really well

F. (opinionslave.blogspot.com) x

Emma Skye said...

Belle - thanks for visiting my blog and leaving a comment. Very sweet of you! I really enjoy your blog, you are a magical writer x