Unstoppable

Unstoppable is this woman’s, so called, conversation.

It’s really not conversation because to converse means “to share verse with”.

This thing is more along the lines of “to make words-noise in company”.

This flower is just so beautiful.  Hasn’t the weather been so lovely, perfect!

This photograph is just breathtaking.  Your vacation will be indescribable.

Really?  Okay, well, first of all, that is a flower.  They’re pretty much all beautiful.

(Please, why can she say something interesting?  Just one thing!

She could me the flower is ugly.  What???  Or, it’s poisonous.  Ooooh!  

Or, she might tattoo it on her neck.  Heck, yes!)  

The weather?  It’s been hot and sticky as fuck.

My boobs are adhered to my ribs right now, in fact.

Yeah, it’s a nice picture, but I can most certainly still breath.

Still breathing… Breathing and breathing….

Our vacation will be:  Relaxing, provocative, frustrating, conflicted,

wonderous, rejuvenating, tiring, troublesome,

awakening, surprising, diarrhea-producing, memorable.

Not, at all, indescribable.

(Please, please, stop her.

Please, please, stop her hyperbolic words-noise.

I’m begging.  Desperation.  Near panic.

I don’t know… if I can smile in agreement… much longer.)

Her voice is a mosquito flying by my ear…  and again… and again,

it rings with threat and need, her incessant and empty talk.

I wish to run away, through the woods, just me and the trees, some salamanders.

Maybe the sun filters through the leaves, dappling quiet, green ferns.

God, maybe I could trip on a rock and need rescue.  That could be sort of fun.

I wish a chore needed urgent doing.

Maybe someone will drop a jug of lemonade on the floor,

carelessly, clumsily, generously.

I find her and offer to make her pancakes.

 

Unstoppable

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