"The usual places." her reluctant address calling her front steps approaching her motionless door disintegrating her complicated room uneasy her moist bed implying her abandoned chair waiting her alarm clock smoking her lying bed drawing her blood and guts stiffening her bare actions spilling her sweaty breasts pushing her thin sweater still clinging her faint nipples disappearing her inhaled chest speaking her cracking lips dismissing her vanilla voice handling things her small fingers releasing "Your whole body's shaking." her feet, her knees, her thighs pressing my squeezed response "Let's call it a spasm." her groin, her stomach, her waist extricating her heart, her arms, her shoulders transporting her neck, her throat, her chin driving "Let's get out of here." her cheek, her mouth, her teeth pulling "Let's talk about something else." her nose, her eyes, her lashes forgetting her hair, her memory, her forever a tissue.
oil/collage on paper, 28" x 20"back
JAMES W JOHNSON