Naked in his studio, Jonah covers my belly in blues and greens so that, soon, South America spans half of my rib cage, Brazil rising with every breath. He forms mountain ranges, the Andes grow strategically out of stretch marks and in no time Costa Rica is on the verge of disappearing into the dip of my bellybutton, the Arctic cast into shadow by my breasts. As he works, Jonah talks to you, tells you in Portuguese how I've been craving pasteis de nata, almonds, the ocean. In Spanish he describes to you Chichen Itza, the salt flats of Bolivia and the beauty of La Amistad. He wonders what you'll want to see first. I tell him Canada, feel your tiny feet against the coastline of Vancouver Island, your heart beating, tremors beneath the surface.
1 comments:
Beautiful, moving and washed in marvel. Just remove the reference to "Alps," wrong side of the world.
Post a Comment