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Stripper

A stripper does not command the same feelings when there is no music when there is rain when there is piss beneath their feet when there is no stage when they are naked. Step off stage, peel their eyes from your skin. Layer after layer of pervert, of bloodshot, wipe the trails of loathing they leave behind. Take a cotton swab to your navel to dry your mother's tears. These are nothing you haven't seen. Find glass where it is not broken, Break it. Pull on your face until you can see your cracks echoed in kaleidoscope reflections. Let your tongue swipe your teeth and slurp down the dollar bill smile. Chase it with the cat that was swimming in your eyes. Imagine what you would look like dead. Make silly faces in broken mirrors. Turn away before they fade. Shake your head in your hands until music flies from your ears. Shake harder. Spill the hypnotic equilibrium they sold you Watch the room start to sway. Sit down. Stand up. Find your legs. Vomit. Heave, feeling there is much more poison than will ever come out. Cough into the air, knowing your hands are sacred. Wipe your memory on someone else's sleeve. Walk to the door. Let your profession slip from your shoulders. Become human. Become blending into the crowd. Become busy with something in your hands. Open the door, then your umbrella. Do not breathe. Take five steps forward and wait to exhale until your hear the door slam behind you. It isn't healthy to mix the sight of rain with the smell of broken pianos. Walk forward. Out of your shoes. Wince as the concrete speaks to your heel. Bathe your toes in the nearest puddle. Let your umbrella slide from the warmth of your hand. Watch it fly. Notice the people. Move your sight from the ground and rest it on their chins. Realize you're wearing no clothes. Pull the confidence down and off of your walk and turn to the closest alley. Step off stage. Peel their eyes from your soul. Become an individual. Forget "the people." Notice the persons wrapped to their noses in professions and smiles, confidence and ignorance pouring from their eyes, heads tucked low beneath charcoal umbrellas. Smile. Without trying when you hear the clouds roar. Stop when you find there are more walls than bodies and the smell of urine is stronger than your own. Forget your smell. Open your mouth. Forget your taste. Bend your knees and raise your head. Close your eyes and feel it rain. Scream. Strip the religion from your prayers. Scream the ineffable confession. Forget your body. Drink the rain. there is no music there is rain there is piss beneath your feet there is no stage you are naked.
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Written by
steven-hutchison
American
Published
Apr 24, 2012
Lines·Words
102·465
Notes

Day 23

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