Queer. I stand on the outside looking through a mirror at the inside me, finally warming up to the taste of love on my lips. Shapes and origamis suddenly make sense, divided lines and parallel dots form into a regular, but new face. It is the one I see on street walls scratched out with dirty claw-like fingers of prancing kids; it’s the face that sees into me when I look up into the fast moving blades of the ceiling fan…or through the window down at a tree with bad breath. I know it’s a cheap trick, this making up everything into him, this willing the Hobnobs biscuit in my hands to be his coarse, brown head with spikes of thinning clay remnants on his face (whatever porter moulded him failed to finish his job). It’s a trick, but I can’t help falling for it.
Maybe because I really met him in heaven, with my head touching the clouds, I paint him as the sky- outstretched arms like the blues, white smiles that I can beat into a fluffy blanket and sleep in. At one time, he, the sky, is touching the end of a forest hill, curling onto the trusty shadows of dense short shrubs, and scanty tall trees, like they are intimacy gadgets he will like to keep perpetually under his toto. If I were a little bit forward, I would have told to steer clear of those virgin vagina, to look my direction for once; that he needn’t curl or sneak around pretty girls, I am the earth, he could fall on me all he wanted. But I am not near bold or anything of such, so the first chance I get, I tell him the story about the heaven and earth.
“Do you know why the heaven is faraway from the earth?”
“No, not really”
“Ok, I’ll tell you. Story Story.”
He snickers. I know what he instantly thinks. I act like a child.
I insist. “Story story.”
He relents, “Story”
“Once upon a time”
“Tie your wrapper”, now I think he is the child.
Long long ago in a place beyond dreams where men ate grass and animals lived in houses, the heavens had breath, a life of loud roaring laughters, thunderstorms, and a wife- earth. They loved themselves well enough, staying close to each other, close enough to wink, smile and copulate. Their copulations started with splatters of rain as heaven caressed the muddy skin of earth, caused giggles, and then, thre were heavy downpours when there were enough groans to cause earthlings to scamper in hurried sights of naked bodies, giving room for privacy, to groan more, laugh more, crack legs open and spit toddling greens from earth's fertile uterus...Heaven and earth- sex rituals...
An excerpt from simplyfunmi.. You should stop in your track and check it out.
For the love of literature.