The most beautiful woman I have ever seen is in my Ceramics class. She is not a student. She is not the teacher. She sleeps, with her eyes closed, on the top shelf of the cabinets, in the back left corner of the studio. You can see her, from the collar bone to the top of her head. She pushes her neck out from over the edge of the cabinet. She is peach-colored, with a spray of white shooting from her neck to her eyelids. Flecks of pnemonia blue dot her complexion.
Above her perfectly curved nose, above her gently sloped forehead, is the abnormality. Her skull is caved clean in. Chunks of it sit inside of her empty head. She doesn't notice. Never will.
She sleeps quietly on, waiting, as she has been since Prometheus and Epimetheus took clay from the riverbed and carved all of us.
No comments:
Post a Comment