Trying another small stone out. The title of this piece is somewhat misleading, I am joking with it a bit. To counterbalance the seriousness! I am reassuring myself that my small stones are not happy and about flowers with this blog post: do small stones have to be upbeat? Absolutely not. (They have put a picture of a flower on the post though).
Small Stone: Men and make-up.
Men’s eyes shift from my face and skitter over my body, pawing at me and I am uncomfortable in my clothes. Sometimes the corners of their mouths will twitch in an almost smile. You look around to count every other person in the street in a sweeping spotlight check where your pupils feel contracted to pinpricks. The looks last seconds but seem to take forever to finish and remain in your head, ugly as your passport photo with its ten years slotted into your life. I think of the middle aged invisibility that women speak of, and hope that this invisibility cloaks you from this. But I know there is another meaning to it. Their presence ghosts the streets now, and they want their bodies back, as if it alone held value and their head is cluttered with their brain. I hope for invisibility and cultivate it, refusing to learn how to wear lipstick correctly, dabbing at my lips with one finger. I imagine using liquid eye liner, dying my eyes black.
- January Small Stones: Boys-Boys (readinpleasure.wordpress.com)
- January Small Stones: Dew Drops (readinpleasure.wordpress.com)