(in process)
He would take them to the graveyard.
The engine hummed to a stop. A heavy quiet, another body hoisted on top
Distant headlights passing in a chaotic morse code
His truck was tucked into the darkness.
The air inside salty and acrid.
Flesh and silence were bookends to an exposed form
Rounded tree stump.
Windows fogged.
Radio Green Light.
Up here!
The sound of a seat belt clicking. His abdomen pressed.
Click Click Click. Click Click
His buckle against bone.
Can you hear the sound of skin pulling from the leather.
Ribs 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
I wondered if anyone would find them.
Could see her rubbing vanilla lotion on his blood stained hands
He didn’t want to smell like…
He starts to cry.
“I’m sad”
She turns her body towards the door.
She runs. He yells.
My feet hit gravel. Moonlight and cicadas. There’s a lake.
I walk out.
Dipping Below
Neck Deep. My nose at the surface. Eyes yellow. Claws digging into sludge.
////
‘An exercise of endurance: four people exist within a human purgatory. Clinging to the desire of not being alone, while simultaneously not wanting to be here; the group tries to get themselves and something out. Bodies emerge from the depths, unfolding, screaming, humming, and swirling. Invoking thumpings from the Bible belt south, the psychic space of haunting, and elements of the natural world, I'm asking questions of what and who we choose to believe, and the space between where people decide to look or walk away/ between life and death. By situating ourselves closer to darkness, what is revealed?’