She Journeys

Only

I'm listening to the new Wide Mouth Mason cd. It isn't exactly brilliant, but there are two songs on the album that are. I keep listening to them both over and over again -- well, mainly the one: a slick blues-y track that not only gets my head bobbing but my shoulders shimmying.

So easy to lose myself in that space between the two limbs of my headphones... Last night. A confusing intertwinement of so much elation and so much disappointment. Sounds melodramatic, but such is me... emotion adds the colours to the canvas. One thing that is certain: I love the goth bar. Wholly. Wantonly. Willingly. I love the women with their beautiful black hair, the heavy black lashes, and ripe flesh wrapped in elaborate ribboned corsetry. The swing of those confident hips. I love the men with their black buckled pants and tight shirts, their uninhibited bodies, the way they close their eyes - wild - reckless - when they move. I noticed things I failed to notice the first time -- the bloodied "corpse" in a wedding dress, suspended from the ceiling, the blue and green fairy lights around the main bar, the face of the DJ behind eloquent techonology. Give me music.

Starlight, starbright, first star I see tonight... I spent all week wishing that he would call. And he did. How would things have turned out if I hadn't already had plans, hadn't mentioned New City, had he not changed his plans and had I not found him sitting on his stool and nursing his drink while watching the gothgirls sashay past. Had he not ruined everything when he opened that mouth of his, pressing it against that woman's red lips later at their evening's end.

posted by TriptychChick @ 5:17 PM