Handcuffs

Anna rolls holy, Shelley survives inside a shell, Amanda buffs for cars, Adrianna spoofs paranoia, Tonya activates for activism, Ambrely must dance, Shelby bites her nails, Tracie traces rainbows, Cassie drips of drama, Kelly is a rival, Melody tunes the radio, Mikeisha lusts limitation, Jessica wilts for wicca, Sara is a masochist, Lydsey is a fast food connoisseur.....some juggle my twin's forbidden juke box. Confusion is a sequence without segments. I am somewhat unaware of names and faces amongst our chaos. Multiple personalities do not exist; ego formations from a cracked egg shell oozes several bodies instead.

A trail of playful fluff softens me into a whimper; snowy creme caresses my curls, tears follow. The stopwatch is killing romance as our kisses die a painful suicide.

I curl into a kitten fetus wrapped inside a silk shirt. The buttons drape my finger tips, the collar is a pillow for my lips; I am lost inside another existence. I drift a hazy awakening for an emptied slim rectangle missing garments with a wooden Pyramid ale crate full of albums crooked in the right corner. Somebody is speaking edgy emotions behind a settled six fold beaded entrance, the design is an encircled orb amongst six colors; purple is the center, yellow, green, red, orange, blue.

"You can stay with me."

"Okay."

My attire is a pair of Unionbay jeans longer than my feet and a Cyndi Lauper neon face black cotton sweatshirt, this he informs me belonged to his sister, the pants a gift from his ex-wife.

"What happened.....?"

"She was cheating on me."

"Oh....."

Kitchen cabinets stock his personal mixtures of protein powder sealed within frosty zip bags tucked inside emptied tubs, vitamin c booster additive, boxes of cereal, rice meals, and tomato juice cans.

"Let's go to farmer's market."

"There are farmers here?"

"Yes ma'am."

Chester is filling a basket; cream soda, sloppy meat, potato chips. I hide behind my roommate's white shirt boasting an emblem I am indirectly inspecting. A woman approaches for coincidental argument; I disappear into the streets through a back door exit.

Buildings are defiant of categorized style for mediocre clocks, sundown is a slow occurrence, and cemeteries appear to be fortresses.

"I told you she would be here."

Brad and Cindy discuss something other than hypnosis while I lay on a lobby bench listening to Aerosmith. I wander to a slit open door, a moaning voice of subliminal aptitude is playing back and forth, the words are disguised however I can remember a phrase specifying black eyes. There is a space which intrigues my heart to beat a shade of healthy pink.

"We're going to get in trouble."

"You're dreamy."

Rolf is gnawing on a bone with a silk handkerchief laying next to his nose.

Helen Keller experienced trauma greater than loss but through courage she was able to gain every man's achievement, fame.

"Did you hear that?"

"Did you?"

"How does this apply to our situation?"

"I do not desire fame."

"I do not desire loss."

"I desire you."

"You're dreamy..."

"Kids..."

"Goats..."

Brad tumbles onto a chair stomping his left leg in a barreled echo of laughter; Cindy is preparing hot water. A knock on the door prompts me to leave.

"That guy at the store....."

"Yes....."

"I did something to him."

"Oh."

"Don't tell anybody."

"Okay."

"I cuffed him to a stop sign on Lamar."

"What is over there?"

"Government housing....."

"The projects?"

"Yeah....."

"What does cuffing imply?"

"Handcuffs....."

"Those are kinky....."

"What?"

"However easy to release."

"Not these kind."