Les Trois Souhaits

I wish my body was like a river that opened up like a flower that was strong and pale and delicious as an American apple or swimming somewhere or gothic or pregnant or beaded or wearing a hat.

I wish I carried the documents in my mouth like a success or cheetah tamer or carried the whip with my foot on the colleagues or got washed down with a very big bottle of something very big.

I wish you chased me darling through Paris on your motorcycle or through a cornfield or through the expensive wedding of my mafia relations or on the sea bed where I am waiting like a mermaid.

The Three Truths

My body is a river that I peer into or a flower of which I am suspicious of growing or an apple pie which I am suspicious of eating and sometimes it is divine when I forget about it.

I have no documents to speak of and my curriculum vitae is entirely a lie and everything in which I succeed is a sunset I see or saw on my own which I can not talk about because it is sacred.

I still miss people I shouldn’t and I do not love anyone except those that I love and the one that I love is not at all who I supposed and you chased me in Paris and I hurt you the most.

—
By Buffy
Photography by Sasha

Tags:  identity longing nostalgia