neverdidland

(I will never forgive Millais for painting Ophelia calm in the water.  My cousin Noah died shoeless and struggling under a lonely man’s hands, his eyes full of rain runoff.  Real people don’t sink as pretty as oil on canvas: Noah was four feet five on the autopsy slab, no flowers, no frames.  I am ruled by the aesthetic, but I would embrace his every imperfection if it meant having him back.  This clumsy dilettante still loves Noah with the scabs on his shins, sitting sloppy at Sam’s recitals in sneakers and shorts.  Give me the asymmetry of his eyelashes.  For the fir