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{sex and fabric softener} scott norenberg You know, Celia, I never asked why you pulled your small mattress into the closet. I figured it was a womb-return thing or the manifestation of a kidhood trauma. In other words, I left it alone. But I remember our late nights in the candle lit dank of that closet. We drank Amber Bock bottles that wound up around your mattress. And when our conversation emptied, we made love, and the bottles rattled. It sounded like we were fucking on a chandelier. The smell of your fresh laundry fell over both of us. Every so often I have my sanity back long enough to miss you, long enough to see that I’ve turned my entire apartment into a closet. With such madness in retreat on those mean sunny days, I dive into the dark of my bedroom, roll in the desperately clean clothes and beg your ghost to tell me why so many things get left alone. |
