Laurie Blauner is the author of four novels and seven books of poetry. Her latest novel, called The Solace of Monsters, won the Leapfrog Fiction contest, was a finalist for the 2017 Washington State Book Award in Fiction, and was included in a list of best 2016 Indie books from Bookriot. Her essays have appeared in PANK, december, and Your Impossible Voice among other places. This essay is from a manuscript of essays titled I Was One of My Memories.
No response and the world became more world. The animal slept in leaves, a noisy weight, pieces from an occasional sky. I went to hold the animal and its surprise teeth. There was an introduction, guesses, jargon. Fur in my face and I wanted to offer a piece of my hand. Claws and I delivered my testimony. My human part began its own devices:
I told the animal one from the herd is sacrificed to save the others. (The animal fed on a figment of bird.)
I explained how to forget.
(Stars salted our skin every night.)
I told a story about water's disobedience.
(And the animal knew it could make me do whatever it wanted.)
Don't Ask Me
I find another and teeter over the dance floor. Strangers, with wet hands and bodies that take short cuts, are borrowed, and reflected in mirrors. I snag a sleeve, confess red lipstick on a starched shirt. There isn't much to discover in these entanglements except that feetkeep on moving. Our effort is covered with a music that drifts and then begins to whisper.Keep your head up, rings out. A flock of birds only suggests a direction. Our hands stretch, legs. I get lost in repetition and recognition. I lose my way. He gloves my hand, my eyechecks the distance between us. Step closer. We are all made of such small parts.