Anastasia Sara Kaufman

Anastasia Sara Kaufman

Wednesday, June 30, 2010

The Collector

I am a collector.

A dusty shelf in the attic

shelters romantic smirks like plaques
It is home to hundreds of ephemeral smiles
And plasticine memories, wax once reflected as Gold
now malleable by time
Love’s lost sparkle and shine, molded and changed.
Yet nothing is rearranged, collecting dust bunnies.
Dead left for display.
Figurines boyfriends set nestled in with crystals and candles
Dried rose petals
I can’t seem to rid myself of their bodies. Pieces of them left deep inside of me. I dig them out and put them up. (Maybe if I can look at them objectively they wont make me so sick and heavy…?)
One boy left his dick on the shelf. I kept it even though the rotting flesh left a constant reminder of what was. And One boy left a whole arm! Sometimes I take it down from the shelf and lay my head against my favorite contour of bicep. There is no warmth to help me sleep.
There are scattered freckles of all shades and sizes from each boy. The one brown one from one love’s inner thigh, the one from right behind the other love’s ear, a bottom lip freckle and a collar bone mole.
It’s not just the shelf I keep loaded with my loves.
My purse is heavy too. My purity weighed down.
I carry them everywhere I go. I wrap them in bubbles and flesh. Fold them into my stomach and tuck them behind my ribs. I feel them when I sit on the bus, I feel them as they dig at me when work gets slow and I stair off at a dark window. Thinking…
My figurines are puppies, some even made of chocolate, hollow like Easter bunnies.
One cold lonely foggy night I feel hungry and I bite the head off of one, and fall sleep gripping onto another.
This figure melts under my heat and half its body slips, melting away- right eye and mouth sloping to an eventual drip
Dripping all over everything. Staining everything. Making a mess of everything!
Wake up and wise up. Its time to clean up, dust things off and purge my possession.
This is my confession. I possess it as it possesses me. I search for resurrection.
I want to covet you and you to covet me.
Cover me in resin, preserve this perverse desire to be destined!