Mnesimache

The sky is choked, the underbellies of the clouds stained abattoir-red. She is beautiful. Starkly, bleakly beautiful. Her hair is dark, long, fluttering in the breeze. Her features are strong, a beauty beneath thick lashes. Her exhalation mists in the air. she takes a breath, but can't stop the tremulous shakes.

I simply cannot breathe this air.

Wednesday, December Fifth: Continents will fall, surrendering to the womb- like comfort of sleep.

Sunday, December Second Half-empty glasses ring the table as my gaze drifts to the empty chair.

Saturday, December First The coats, scarves and gloves can't muffle the elegant dance of fingertips.

His face was narrow, angular. His jaw square--a little too square. A victim of his own bone structure, it seemed sometimes as though his biology had conspired against him to make him appear far more serious than he actually was. He was certainly solemn, at times, but he was never dour--and yet people seemed, time and again, to be put off by his absent-minded, peculiar manner. His dark eyes would crease beneath heavy brows; indeed, he often seemed to be scowling when the truth was far more benign. He needed glasses, but had long before refused to wear them out of some mixture of pride and annoyance. When he seemed to be scowling he was squint

Fat square head ugly cheeks lank blonde hair turning brunette. Awful beaked nose lends an air of predatory asymmetricality. Chin that juts out heavy makeup suffocating lazy eyes. Sloping shoulders bulging stomach sagging bosom ripple judder shudder stutter. Swollen fingers pink choked in silver. Clothes strain to cover colossal bulk stretch marks tear through excess flesh. The actinic taint of nicotine clinging like a callous lover.

Inebriated post-revolutionary adminstrator.