Like Birds by Elise Johansen

THIS is a STORY about a bird and a girl and sex. The bird doesn’t have anything to do with the sex but the girl does. The girl is sex. She smells of, tastes of and sounds like sex. She moves like sex. She wakes each morning and pulls her tangled, nest-like hair into a loose bun at the base of her sticky neck. She pads into her kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Today, she doesn’t want the girl in her bed to awaken yet.
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Alan was puzzled. To be precise, Alan was puzzled by a puzzle. To be even more precise, Alan was puzzled by a puzzle that would not otherwise have been particularly puzzling, save for the fact that he had nearly completed it, only to find himself in a unique conundrum.

Wisdom stands with her feet planted on the moon.
Wrapped with the sun light and wearing a crown of twelve stars that bloom.
Her cries echo through the universe.
Signing of something soon.
The one who wears seven diadems pours out words like a river to drown,
But a haven is prepared.

I drowsily awaken to a dim candle. My mouth releases a dying yawn.

One's soul is eternally awake

My heart begins to shiver in grief. He is in deep doze; his curls clothe my shoulder. Exhale. Inhale. I hold my breath. A spasm forces my shoulder from underneath his skull. In the midst of repositioning his head he murmurs, which I ignore. Piece by piece I collect my clothes off the floor.

Perhaps he’ll awaken and listen to my outlandish theories, take bubble baths with me, or pretend to laugh at my horrendously corny jokes.

No malady without a lady
No mason without a son
No millionaire without a lion
No nirvana without a van
No pharmacy without harm
No plant without a plan
No product without a duct
No sight without a sigh
No slaughter without laughter