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Corpus of a Siam Mosquito by Steven (Steven David Justin) Sills
page 15 of 223 (06%)
the tension of his body and to be emitted of it like a squeezed
tangerine in such a good rhythmic fingering would well compensate for
the stress level of having to spend so much time with her. He desired
her a lot of the time so by most accounts of love he did truly love
her. Foremost, Noppawan did not object to her. Matter of fact, she
wanted Porn to relieve him. She wanted him squeezed. She wanted the
pus squished from his brain without having to get dirty. She wanted to
continuously wear the glasses that caged her tepid orbs and to not
succumb them to rapturous non-Buddhist primal yearnings. She did not
care to dodge the aloneness of her thoughts through a rapturous
delusion that she was one partial being made whole in sex and love.
And yet by her account she did not want to mandate his awareness. It
was only by tripping on shadows and feeling vapid equanimity that came
after having absurdly given oneself over so entirely to the sensation
of pulling on one's genitalia that a man actually knew anything.
This whore was and was not his typical whorehouse girl. On the
day of their first meeting he had been sketching runners and trees at a
stadium near Assumption University where his wife taught. His head was
resting in a fog until she materialized. There she was casting a shadow
onto the sun that was sedating him and wrapping him into himself in
sleep. There she was questioning him on his art and pointing out her
mommy, a skinny and frail thing, sitting on the other set of bleachers.
He found out that she was a dancer. There was no surprise there. Her
flirtatious gestures and the presence of her frail mommy looking over
at them and hoping the purchase would take place were tacit but
undeniable clues that she was poor and wanted a male companion. That
was no surprise either. Yet beyond this calculated small talk or
artifice was an ingenuous mouth that glistened in guileless desire. She
was a money girl. That was obvious, and yet there was more. There was
infatuation and an accompanying mommy who was like an SOS. Porn was a
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