Frangipani
My lover has tied a vine to his ankle and is going to throw himself over a cliff at dawn, with three of the natives. The post Frangipani appeared first on Guernica.
Illustration by Jia Sung. Singular, the way each male member of the expedition keeps his face serious before pulling on the joint. Well, yes, it is their last, and blessed be whomever digs up a dealer here, so many thousands of miles across the ocean. The language alone.
But the natives speak the same one. The explorer with the roach is explaining the real root of their problem: we must think island. It’s got to be hidden.
My lover agrees. He’s tied a vine to his ankle and is going to throw himself over a cliff at dawn in twelve hours, with three of the natives. They keep it somewhere, they have to be just as stoned, he says.
Or stupid, I say.
To a man, they turn to me, my guilelessness, my personal political dumb straight femaleness reveals itself once again and
