Inside Anna

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  I feel the undeniable twitch in my sex as the light pierces so much more than just my retinas. All I can see out of my left is the back of my eyeball, a mess of veins and other complicated shit. He’s close to me now, unbelievably close, his breath – practically cold from the freshness of it – is on my cheek, in my ear, breathing steady and proving how erratic my own are in comparison. I’m nervous. Of course I am. We – that is, humanity – are so rarely this close without being inside of each other. Writhing around and groaning and coming. I try not to think about it. I clench my skirt in my balled up fists and try not to think about it.

  Still sitting in his swivel chair he rolls around to look into my other eye with his bright little flashlight. I wonder if he thinks about proximity when he’s doing this or is it just a job. Maybe it doesn’t even register for him anymore. Maybe when he’s having sex with his wife and she’s getting there, she’s close, her breath hot and heavy on his lips, her eyes looking deep into his as her climax builds, he has to struggle to remember to simply look into her eyes instead of look into her eyes and give her a prescription at the end of it all.

  It’s easy, I guess, to let your imagination run away from you – even with the accusatory searchlight darting around the inside of your head, looking for it, chasing it down. There’s a biomicroscope near us and I wonder why he doesn’t just use that. Gaze inside my face from a safe distance. The flashlight turns off and he pulls back, content, I guess. I’m dazed, golden orbs dancing in front of me and I resist the urge to bat them away. I blink a couple of times and clench my eyes shut, waiting for my sight to return to it’s normal fuzzy haze. He hands me my spectacles and I slip them on, embarrassed, an almost post coitus glow surrounding me. As if the act could be anything other than sexual. No one but him sees what he’s just seen. Through his pervasive penetration he has earnt himself a sliver of me wholly his own. A trophy to hang near his certificates and degrees. Inside Anna.

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~ by Joseph Blame on January 17, 2011.

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