"The Piece of Paper" by DS Maolalai
she tells me about her film: it's
abstract, she says,
but only in the particulars. it's about a man
who falls in love with a piece of paper
but edgy
because he fucks it
there are scenes
of him fucking this paper
done romantically
with soft light. then
at the end
after all of this
he looks at it
and sees a phone number
that he calls.
it's funny - it was only
when I finished storyboarding
that I realised it was about me, she says,
as if everyone
doesn't only make art
about themselves. as if art
is not the probing tongue
touching the sore spot
under a rotten tooth
in a head
perfectly bound up with anxieties.
later
I kiss her
and it tastes
nothing like paper at all -
just
a round mouth
that had spent all night
eating lemonrinds
that the bar served on its drinks
as garnishes.