Parables in Tight Jeans

You were ugly. You were beautiful. Paradise in a rainstorm. Earth turning to mud. So serenely becoming filth. As everyone does.

Closing the curtain. I could open it and be anywhere. On the tip of a cat's claw fresh with the mouse's blood. On the scent of beer in his breath as he stumbles into bed. Pieces of chewing gum the street left on our strut. The cackle of sex obsequiously condoning our rituals of self-destruction.

The night turns up its wrists and dares me to guess. At what it takes to live. I toy with the backgrounds. A dismal frustration of logic. Teddy bears having heart attacks. Drowning fish. I pick out a clean shirt. But they get dirty so fast.

The infinite mercy of memory is that it always. Always lies to us. The mercy of wisdom is that it tells us the truth.

Happiness is a prude. Love a tease.

Hurt is sexy. Pain is a slut.