Where In The World Is The Cavegirl? Benign Changes

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Coming In Out Of The Cold

He was sitting on a bench in front of the post office. He looked done, just like a piece of toast. The next week when I saw him stuck to the bench again I said “Hi.”

A foolish girl had broken his heart.

I had wedged my heart into an intense cyberworld affair that never became real.

We were sick, post-office dude and I.

So we moved in together…sort of. He spends some time here and I spend some time at his place. We haven’t introduced each other to our family, nor our friends. We have a relationship of healing, not one that is given any fuel to progress beyond the moment. There aren’t any games to be played. No goals to be shared. We just are.

He is simple and peaceful. He has the prescription for my melancholia. He has a very long tongue.

Simone Died Of Heart Confusion

My friend Simone kept her virginal self for 28 years. Oh sure, she dated…lots of men. Men of every size, shape and occupation. But she never let them pass THE LINE. She was so good at turning men down that she didn’t even bother carrying condoms. Then WHAM! She fell in love with a stockbroker on the wane. He was nice to her. He looked good. They married four months later.

She’s been a ringed woman for two and one half years now. She threw her head up and laughed a mouthful of stars. She glowed with bliss…most of the time. Yet just last month I saw something mauve. Today is gray. It is like some chemical has overtaken her spirit. She is not well. The Simone I once knew has disappeared into a shadow.

In secret conversation hushed so low it is barely audible she tells me, “It was lust….two years full of fire. Lust is easily confused for love. I was sex famished. I thought he was my cure. Only love can carry us through the years. We have fake love. We try to get back what we had. Lust evaporates. Only love perpetuates itself. I want to go home. I can’t. Now I have so much credit-card debt I can’t get on the plane.”

Simone taught me well. I am trying to remain freshly fucked. I care less who does it. I’m more interested that the actual event takes place. I carry around a bucketful of condoms. Love? Lust?/ Lust? Love? I don’t want to be overly hungry when I meet him. I’ll know true love when it comes around. And so will he. We will adhere like super glue.

The other ones? The ones I see now? Well, they are very nice and easily aroused.

934 Zaps to Beauty

Beneath my thin translucent faceskin runs roadmaps of tiny red veins. I cover it up with mountains of “Wet ‘n Wild SANS HUILLE Fondit du taint “ foundation so you and everyone else will think I am a pretty girl.

For $1000 Dr. Sootti with take it away. I said okay.

I place my body in a basic dentist chair and he spreads a cool cream on patches of my face. Zip! Zap! I had my eyes closed but I could still see bolts of light through the antilight glasses. (It sort of looks like welding light, hot white.) Now it feels like he is rubbing a Popsicle up and down my face. I open my eyes. It is a Popsicle stick with a big round pad of clear ice. It feels good, the opposite of hot.

“I’ll let you look.” He says when he is all finished one hour later. “You are strong. You didn’t blister.”

Nice to know, I thought. I guess if you DID blister you wouldn’t get to see it until you got into the car and looked in the rearview mirror and screamed.

“The swelling will go down in a week, then the veins will turn from red to gray and within 6 months they will be absorbed into you body. Viola! You will be beautiful. You are such a pretty girl.”

Six months…it will be January. When I come up out of the Atlantic, all wet with snorkel gear on, my foundation no longer miggling with sea-creature liquid, you will think I am soooooo natural, a beautiful Venus.

And I will be. .

The Man Who Fell In Love Backwards

“I had to take it out.”

The One Who Made Me Fall Apart

In the soft chandeliered light at the cocktail party she looked so beautiful, untouchable. I could see her nametag…Holly. Holly-Go-Lightly, Merry Christmas! Perfect. What a rare creature. Her tousled curly dark cherry-red hair was caught up in a skinny purple headband at the top of her skull. The black suit, expensive, and tailor-fitted, was lawyerish…oh so professional. Obviously the air conditioner in her car had funked out. The moisture of a too-hot Midwestern summer stuck her skirt to her curvy long legs ending in black and white stilettos. She looked down at the floor when she talked. She was intoxicating, on the brink of falling apart. Her vulnerability made me susceptible. I wanted her…in some way. What way, well I wasn’t exactly sure. Women start normal and voyage down to life-burnt-in toughgirls. The last step is where Holly was…fragile, about to exit planet Earth.

I never approached her. I know what she smells like. I didn’t want to get singed.

She’a a malignant piece of me.

Alice Loved Plumbers, Electricians Too!

Alice has the greatest house.