Pussy, King of the Pirates by Kathy Acker
Author:Kathy Acker
Language: fra
Format: epub
Published: 2016-07-26T16:00:00+00:00
IN THE LIGHT OF THE MORNING OF THE WORLD
There are such things as ghosts. Death does not all things end. Pussycat as a corpse came back to me in a dream.
She was wearing the same hairs she had taken with her to the grave. Standing so close to my head that I could smell her, she said:
"There are such things as ghosts. Death does not all things end. "And pale yellow escape shades out of vanquished graves."
You see, Pussycat by me was seen to lean over bed, though near the roar of just buried freeway. When I could no longer fall asleep realizing love just dead, my bed and new reigns of chill and pain.
The same she had with her in which she was buried little cunt hairs, the same eyes, one side of her shirt had been burnt, and always worn on finger the ring its pearl had eaten away fire. Surfaces Death's had turned black and blue her lips' liquor. Breathing animation and these words she let go, though thumb bones were rattling their own hand bones:
"Slut, but for better what girl can hope,
"you already asleep, how can?
"Already you have forgotten our desperate crimes:
"my by nocturnal deceptions worn-down window "through which dropping down a rope to reach you I hanging how many times
"by the other snaking around your neck hand!
"Often sex occurred publicly, genitals joined;
"made hot skins our streets.
"Too bad for Our Silent Pact, whose obviously lying promises "unable-to-hear has torn the winds to pieces!"
âListen. When I was dying, there was no one. Thereâs no one in my life. I had no one to turn to because Iâm alone. If you hadnât deserted me, 02, my life wouldnât have turned out this way.
âI would have done anything for you if you had stayed with me. I would still be alive.
âThereâs no one who gives a shit about me dead. Is there anyone now scaring away all the demons, ghouls, flesh-eating birds, and poisonous snakes who are living in my grave and resting on top of me? No. This is what reality is: instead of you being with me, as soon as I died, the deaf winds dropped a broken brick on my head.
âThis is what happens to those who have loved.
âYouâre complaining that 1 left you. But who saw you at my funeral? Who saw you, at that funeral, shed a tear?
âPerhaps you didnât attend my funeral because you couldnât have borne the reality of so much pain. Perhaps you couldnât bear that I was no longer with you. Perhaps you couldnât bear that I could no longer protect you, especially from the realms of loneliness. Or perhaps you werenât present at my funeral because you didnât want to realize that youâre going to die. If that was the case, Oz, why didnât you just put a halt to my burial? Iâve seen you do things like that before. Even when you werenât crazy in love. Or why didnât you throw yourself on top of me inside the
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