judyisapunk

So I said I'd post one of my monologues for ya'all who read this and might care to give me feedback. So here goes, this is a new one from last night, or was it this morning? I forget.

2E

My windows, all five of them, face the building behind my buildings back. No matter where I sit down to watch television, eat, or read have a view of brick. The buildings vertebral column with o windows to wink at mine, a tight back ally that if this were a French movie or a cartoon and not my life would be littered with cats. But not even trash visits my ally and disrupts the view of wet red-brown brick.
But then, theres you, ghost of sandstone hair, glistening skin and sweet sweat scent at six am. I hear you coming while Im dreaming. Slapone foot on the pavementslapthen the other in work Nikes. Long before you are in my sight Im out of my cold bed and at the window crouch like a spy, its white lips parted like and eager mouth awaiting the first bad-breath kiss of the morning. As you dash byslap, slapyour scent is left hanging like the sunrise at my open window. Old Spice from last night hanging in limbo with clove cigarettes and the rutty sweat of a man. Slap, slapyour feet on the pavement past the window and your back to me, my eyes are on your ass. Silver shorts shining in the hazy gray day break, your calves tight like angry fists protesting the run. Your arms in perfect rhythm with your feetslap, slap. Your strong back bares the banks of the river of sweat down its center, soft white cotton clinging hard like a mother to her childs hand.
When you are out of earshot I climb back into bed and dream about the day we will meet in the corner Starbucks. Ill recognize your back while I stand behind you in the endless line. And I will smell your smell and reach to touch that soft hair, lighter without the sweat. Youll order a Chai and sit at the table by the window with the extra chair, and Ill take it as a sign, and well talk about art and how they never should have cancelled Frazer, and youll offer me one of your clove cigarettes which youll light with the end of yours, and well stand outside together on the corner warming our lungs.
When I wake up from those dreams hard and sweating to an alarm clock protesting my sleep, I have to reluctantly agree to return to real life. I shut it off, clinging to the dream like that white shirt to your back. Then I go to the corner, to Starbucks and order my Chai tea with a shot of espresso and Hope.

I hope you guys like that. It's not my slam peice, but I did write one of those yestarday too. So now I have enough for two rounds and I think I have a good chance. I also finished a draft of my NYU essay today. I was a busy bee. I'd pat myself on the back but that would be pre-emptive since I have a lot to still do before I finish undergrad forever.
Oh and shameless plug for a book I loved~ read Ann Patchett's "Truth and Beauty" and when your done read her fiction. She is wonderful.
Love all. Goodnight.