Friday, March 13, 2009

Insect Repellent

Trying to work despite the mosquitoes and there is the smell of insect repellent. That acid tang, the grit of sand in my teeth, kisses with a grain of it passed from lip to lip and the taste of Rid on my breast perhaps. Summer holiday. A pause in the school year, a break before university. A gap. Heat fermenting desire, sweat making a slow trail down my back.

It is impossible to concentrate. I remove myself from the project yet again. A quick consummation by myself with the summer-holiday images simmering over the smell of insect repellent. A mosquito buzzes against my ear.

Good and sweet. I am wearing away the Sharp edges of memory till it is warm and gentle as a river stone. I long for the ocean.

I trudge back to the chair and I wave away the sound of a mosquito, but there is still the acid chemical smell and I refuse to leave the chair yet again. I am making the upholstery damp with self-denial, but I want to work, must work, must force myself to concentrate or I will be raw and sore and will have nothing to show for it at the end of a long, hot summer-holiday kind of day.

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