Doors

I stand on tiptoe to kiss you, jacket is on, suitcase packed, your arm around my waist, you walk out of the door, it's just for a few days, I like few days, but I don't like doors. I don't even like to be precise about it.

Last Evenings

So many last evenings  I wanted to write, to find the words, cairns for wanderings to come, and nothing came. Loose ends not to be tied up. Like I knew I would be back in time to catch them. Only I never did. I carried it all with me and there was nothing left to come back for.

Mirrors

For days I've looked at you in your smile, the little quiver before I know it's a smile, the softness of your lips just after.
I've wandered along your scars and laugh lines, up and down the nose, that turns the opposite way of mine.
I pass a mirror, the one I stand before when I brush my teeth, and it all looks the same, yet I recognize a young girl who once couldn't imagine to be a woman at my age.

Desire

Woke up with this little worry, then a walk in the rain, it's much too cold for August and the mind is such a delicate mechanism. Millions of tiny little cogwheels working in and out of each other, moves me forward, pulls me back.
Saturday, Saturday, hold out your hand, assure me you won't fall out of this year's calendar.

The waiting, the knowing

I lie down, back meets ground, the sky behind your face, grass tickles an ankle. I don't want to miss any moments of this impatience.

Flash fiction: Bob

My mum and Bob took me to the doctor. They also took me to the public pool, the Zoo and the circus. Bob never had children of his own and my mum wanted us to be a family so my real age wasn't that important. Not until they agreed to make this appointment for me. They talked a lot about how it was to be sweet sixteen. I still don't know which of them actually called the doctor. Usually it would be my mum of course. But at that time she liked Bob to do things for her, not only things she had a hard time with, but all sort of things, he even signed letters that have to be proved by parents.
On the way to the doctor I chose the ears. The ears were as far as I could get from my vagina and I was definitely not pregnant. I'd told them but my mum and Bob didn't trust the test you can buy in the shops. The doctor put a thing into my ear and looked. He continued with the other ear. Both were blocked. I could have told him that. He used lukewarm water. It tickled. He asked me why I stuffed paper into my ears. I didn't know what to say. I forgot about it. There are so many sounds I don't like. Now it's not Bob anymore. It never was. It's Alvin. Who the fuck wants her mother to giggle with a Alvin?

This is not civilized

I don't think I could do it. I only know what I can imagine. I imagine that I watch the lions in a Zoo. They tear a man apart. I don't want his name in the middle of my words, so I call him ABB. He just killed 74 Norwegians. He faced most of them. Then he pulled the trigger.
I don't see his face, I don't hear his screaming, it's not that I want his suffering. I don't care whether he suffers or not. I just want him to disappear in a human way. Feeding lions is not evil. Eating is survival. I never imagined such things before.