Girl Body
by Dodie Bellamy

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Along her lashes she paints a thick white line, then a thinner black line, but the brush in her chubby hand wobbles it always wobbles, in the mirror a smooth white horizon, row of black blobs in the foreground, pale blue shadow.  Some girls would wipe it all off and begin again but she leaves it unscrews a tube of Maybelline slips out the wand sucking sound faint chemical odor she brushes her lashes wet and spidery.  She’ll be too lazy to wash her face that night, her mouth open snoring and drooling on the olive green pillowcase, black mascara grit pooling in the corner of her eye, the other girl in the bed is all mouth and fingers sucking her budding tit lifting the hem of her flannel nightgown streetlight from the alley graining the darkness she pretends she’s still sleeping, the expressway at the end of the block roars unceasingly like a ocean she thinks but she’s never seen an ocean.  The girl bites her lower lip clenches her eyes nobody fucks in her fantasies fucking is two dogs stuck together in the neighbor’s front yard two mongrels on spindly hind legs heaving and tottering, her fantasies are flat as a leaves pressed between a book, no touch no smells, they’re all excited vision and narrative drive.  Sometimes body heat.  In ratty thrift store fur the fantasy girl races her Schwinn from adventure to adventure.  The fantasy girl is super smart but reckless, she hurls off her bike and lands on the pavement outside the apartment of a stern sexy man, he’s tall, dark-haired, boyish, the man boy wraps his arm around her takes her inside dabs her scratches with a tiny glass wand of mercurochrome, it stings like crazy, stains her palms and knees neon orange, the man boy smiles as she screams—body is elsewhere throbbing ravenous body will stop at nothing to come and come and come the icy white of streetlight filtering through bedroom curtains roar of expressway down the block saliva and mucous cramped legs pushed-up flannel nightgowns, brush rollers in hair nauseous stench of Clearasil—the fantasy girl’s been raped or almost raped the man boy chases after her assailant, gives her a glass of whisky wraps his arm around her and takes her to the ER, the calm radiant heat of his armpit calms her—furtive orgasms in the dark—the fantasy girl is effortlessly brilliant, wears a tight sheath skirt with tucked-in white blouse, her hair in a long single braid down her back.  She wears cordovan-colored penny loafers, her name is Sally, after the little blonde sister in the Dick and Jane books.  Sally is vulnerable, mysterious, other.  She’s smarter, more bohemian than other girls.  She oozes erotic but never has sex with the boyish men who service her.  She titillates them.  Fingers in the dark enter her vagina, a mouth sucks on her tit she pretends to be asleep as she bucks and gasps and sweats.  Her favorite song is “Teach Me Tonight.”  The sky’s a blackboard high above you/ And if a shooting star goes by/ I’ll use that star to write ‘I love you’/ A thousand times across the sky.  Sally takes LSD and wanders through Central Park, she’s beckoned by a massive oak tree, the man boy is leaning against it, she floats over to him stands too close light streams from his fingers she touches his hand—you’re too young to be doing this he says—you speak she says, giggling—then the trip turns bad/she freaks out/he wraps his arms around her, the full weight of her body falls into his like an animal’s would a domesticated cat or dog but still an animal, he takes her home to his bachelor pad and holds her until she calms down.  They fall asleep, fully clothed atop his bed, which is covered by a quilt his grandmother made, a chink of tenderness beneath his stern sexy demeanor.  In the morning scent of strong coffee and the promise of barefooted conversation at the kitchen table.  Sally is frisky, vulnerable, fearless, surrounded by animals, totally present.  Open armed she chases a butterfly look up look up up up run run run jump run jump up dog familiar leaping at her side, the butterfly flutters over a hedge, Sally continues chasing it and tumbles into the bushes with Chaplinesque slapstick ease.  She dunks her bear familiar in a fountain, throws him down the stairs, her puffy minidresses barely cover her hairless pubes.  We never get to see her panties, even when she’s standing on her head, but we know they’re white or pink with ruffles across the ass.  She’s a stowaway on a pirate ship the only girl in a sea of men, she’s a frisky Maid Marian, Robin Hood carrying her off for her own good as she clings to his neck kicking and huffing, she breathes easily in her tight medieval bodice red pus dripping down her thigh her insides are rotting a finger slips inside her all sensation rushes to it sensation so dense it explodes.  At night things she puts in her mouth:  Chianti from a straw-wrapped bottle cigarettes liverwurst sandwich slathered with Miracle Whip and onions sloppily rolled joint.  Fingers.  She’s nuzzled between two man boys in a Corvette straddling the stick shift a blond one and a dark one the heat of their bodies sizzling her sides as they hurl down the highway can go can go can go look look see can go she’s in trouble and they’re taking her some place to save her the body takes over the body clenches thighs together the body holds its breath gulps for air hips roll forward and back forward and back cunt muscles squeeze and release tension building go go down go go go, go down the girl has a crush on a boy in her math class, he has short cropped flaming red hair and his name is Bill, she dances with him at a party soapy scent of his crisp pin-striped shirt pinching her nose, she wraps her arms around his back tracking the compact heat of him he stiffens and she grinds her groin against his—he pulls away—his translucent freckled skin blushing in hot pink circles.  He doesn’t talk to her after that.  Body oozing blood jiggly breasts this body cannot be real metal garters bruising thighs fat belly scaly patches on feet the sound comes from elsewhere enters her throat cries gurgle out no stopping them, she feels like a ventriloquist’s dummy, finger wigging in vagina controlling guttural puppet voice.  Ohhh.  Ohhhh.  Oh no.  Sally peers at herself in the dresser mirror, she says “I see something.”  She orders her cat familiar “jump up!” then her dog familiar “come come jump up!” then her bear familiar “jump up see jump jump up!”  The animals obey.  She stares in the mirror: girl bear dog cat: cat dog bear girl: the four of them are now eight of them: the doubling sends chills down her arms, she says, “I see something something and something.  I see something I want something.”  Sally breathes easily in her thigh-length girdle, garters do not leave steer-head indentations in her leg flesh, her feet look dainty in cordovan penny loafers, the straps of her primitive white cotton bra—pointy with circular stitching in concentric rows around the cups—do no poke out of the neckline of her blouse.  She does not leave bloody puddles on the back of her skirts, no hot stinky ooze, no mother in cafeteria lady uniform finding her bloody panties at the bottom of the hamper, yelling, “I told you about this, you have to wear a kotex now.”  No hobbling with thick flat wad between legs, damp and chafing.  The girl does not want to end up in a job where she has to wear a hairnet.  She cuts out pictures of animals and pastes them in scrapbooks, underwater creatures bright as Crayolas, translucent veils extending from their bodies, undulate in turquoise deep sea silence.  The girl colors all people with the crayon labeled “flesh.”  A mouth sucks her tit through the nylon of her apricot baby doll top, clit twitches as if there were a cord stretching from tit to clit, body squeezes thighs together and clit jumps harder jump jump jump clit jump funny funny clit jump mouth sucks voraciously large circle of wet on the front of baby doll hand slips between clamped thighs body wants to clench the hand until it breaks but body relaxes, finger slips inside vagina and body explodes.  The man boy does not sit at the dinner table smoking and farting, man boys do hold belching contests at the dinner table, flick ashes into cold mashed potatoes, man boys do not get up to piss in the middle of the night, their huge cocks pale in the blue glow of street light dick is big, big big dick.  Bear familiar between her legs pressed tight against her clit, Sally covers his eyes with a yellow bandana, her own eyes with a blue bandana, she’s wildly drunk and making a scene either alone or in public, the man boy would never think of taking advantage of her naughty banter her slithery indecencies, he wraps his arms around her and drags her into an icy shower, she’s so drunkenly limp he has to hold her up, her hair’s drenched her arms flail, her nipples are hard beneath her soaked blouse.  The scent of strong coffee brewing in the kitchen.  “Come on, let’s get you out of these wet clothes,” he says.  Sally throws her little red car in the pond, drops her bear familiar a in pit, drops him also in lake.  Cat familiar and dog familiar jump off the stairs can jump can jump look see play, Sally eagerly follows look see jump see jump down down down down, then she’s sitting on the stairs again, her hair in disarray, the right strap of her pink overalls undone, the front bib gaping open to her waist, her head’s turned in the direction of the gap, her gaze totally focused on the bear familiar who’s hovering in midair oh see funny little see, the gap has changed her has given her powers, dog familiar crouches, cat familiar’s tail is erect.  Sally throws her head back raises her arms spreads her fingers and chants, “Jump up jump jump jump jump up jump!” A storm of paper cutouts twirls in the air bear boat bird Corvette bandana cat dog.  Lacy white pinafore strains across heaving breast, mouth gapes open mouth clamped on tit lips sucking tongue flicking and licking saliva nipple teeth nibble tongue swollen and itchy clenched thighs spasm clit she wants to push it away this endless flesh devouring mouth she wants to dissolve into it oh oh go come come come go oh body clenching spasms in clit hand goes down she squeezes and grinds her clit against it she wants to break it in two I want I want I want cookie’s too high to reach bear familiar is drowning in lake I want I want help the body legs part help the finger slips inside help I want help I want I want.  Sally is undomesticated, toys litter her bedroom floor, so many toys it looks like toy slaughter—when it’s time to clean up she and her dog familiar shove the toys under the bed, in blue minidress she bends over, ass up in air, dog ass also up in air funny funny oh oh oh.