The index I run my finger down memories, points of contact, and flip her open like a book, right to the spot that I marked.
It's erotic, I find, indexing: For me, memory speaks; and you, I imagine, you're led on to explore varied pleasures:
Smell of
iron,
pink light,
splashing water, a sound
thwack, the curve of
the world,
her cries, ringing
bells:
It's easy to find what we want, when we want it, given an index.
What's most important isn't always on top, or what happened today.
{NA}
>> posted by John Psmyth
• 6/26/2004 04:52:00 PM
•
1 comments
1 Comments:
Fuck. How can you make a post about an index so hot?
Look, John, when this Antiquities thing is finally published in book form, as it will be if there is any justice in the world---a debatable point, I admit----I'll want a signed copy, okay??
DTG xxoo
