Maiko Kikuchi, Feed Me On Ice Cream #5, 2011 (Artist Website)
Paper and acrylic paint on paper
We were girls in that van, the sand outside a scrimshaw of talons, restless
birds always hungry, the last of the ocean’s cold light puddled close.
We could have fluttered away
girls girls
always changing their minds. Could have
said no I don’t think we’re interested. No, we’re not
interested.
The scent of salt, something long
and terminal in those ripe seats not far enough from the front, not far
enough by far by far, the sun simply nothing we could pray to, though
we tried, tried to tease it back up, back to a time, five minutes ago five
minutes, we’ll take it, run with it, run, spin back to the nuns telling us
telling us O the oldest trick in the book. The bottle in my hand, green
with want, the driver a grin his friend a fish a round mouth fish no one says no
to my friend my eyes to yours to the door to you to the door the black hole of
handleless door the dawn in your eyes us us the glass growing hot in my hand.