Author Archives: Larissa
Drunk in Rio
“Baby, stay a while.
I just want to watch you breathe.”
20 Years in the Dakota
“They want to burn the witches inside us.”
What a strange, unsettling dream:
I died. I can’t remember how. After lingering in a brightly-lit Edwardian mansion (that had been modernized, with stainless steel appliances), I returned to my body, yet I remained in limbo. The house changed: in some rooms, I was in California; in others, my childhood home. I suspect two dreams bled into one another.
Being a ghost wasn’t so bad. I could still talk to everyone. I decided to return to my body, because I wanted to help someone I’ve since forgotten (I think it might have been Frances Bean Cobain, but that is odd). Once inside my body, one thought consumed me: beating the clock. I worried I would run out of time before I began to decompose. When I looked at myself in the mirror (I often look at my reflection in dreams, even though it’s “dangerous”/reveals “the true self;” I’M A REBEL!), my cheeks seemed sunken–my flesh, a bit yellow. I thought I looked bloated. When I left the bathroom (the master bathroom from my childhood home), my parents were waiting for me.
Mommy, I’m rotting.
“I know,” my mom said.
“No, you’re not! You look the same way you did before you died. No one will know the difference,” my dad said.
I’m sure the dream is a metaphor for my body image issues, but it scared me. I thought I could smell myself. Perhaps my subconscious is simply telling me to take a shower?
“And I warned them:
‘Embrace the storm and the night.’
What do the waves have to say now?”
“You take me to New Orleans….
You sing songs into my lips.
Well, I am speckled like a leopard.”
Take You on a Cruise
“The sea will crowd us with lovers at night….
(I see that you’ve come to resist me….)
White goddess, red goddess, black temptress of the sea,
you right me right.”
“I wish I could live free.
I hope it’s not beyond me.
Settling down, it takes time.
One day we’ll live together
and life will be better.
I have it here, yeah, in my mind.”
“It’s like learning a new language.
Helps me catch up on my mime.
If you don’t bring up those lonely parts,
this could be a good time.
It’s like learning a new language.
You come here to me.
We’ll collect those lonely parts and set them down.
You come here to me….
My love’s subliminal.”