The enormity of my desire disgusts me; pollock

[rapt]

there is a dream in the space between the hammer and the nail ------ the dream of about-to-be-hit, which is a bad dream ------------ but the nail will take the hit if it gets to sleep inside the wood forever Maybe he wants this – to grow stronger than his parents. To become something, slick muscle, terrible, looming. Something to make them look. To make them wonder. (Maybe he just wants to please this man. This monster.) He doesn’t know, because he is not a particularly smart boy. He is clay, begging to be shaped, and monster’s hands have long been maestros at shaping such things. So good, he promises, so good. There’s still fear, a thing needled in the space in-between his ribs. The last dregs of warning sirens, howling to the tune of his zipping heart and fractured breaths. Ah, but fear and excitement exist kissing distance from one another, and who is he to know the difference? (Such a stupid boy.) Fine lad, the man calls him, and he preens. Fine. He watches intently as the man’s face changes, splits like a wound. He is scared but he doesn’t move. He knows the man doesn’t want him to move. Not yet. (so good) And then, the question poised - what do you fear most? He thinks of a dozen things – natural disasters, plagues, his own death – but none of them are quite right, they are too shapeless, unformed. No edges to them. More concrete, is this: “being alone. Not being enough.” A pause, then, “I’ll do whatever you want.” Such a stupid boy, yes – but such a good boy, too. rapt caius x else