there is a corner in the earth and it holds two bodies. these bodies they shuffle and they prop and they snap with continuous long exposures. with its slippery boards and egg white walls, this corner had never meant anything before.
part of what it means now is clear.
a few short weeks ago i happened to be rifling through the human op-shop of korea when i stumbled upon some sort of anomaly. drunkness let me see through my usual bout of second guessing, and soon enough i was as smitten as a smile on a kitten. this anomaly of mine she knows music, film, art and travel. she has a couple of tattoos and she even smokes in public from time to time, at her own risk. she is coarse with tongue, snappy with dress, and spindly with structure. she doesn't quite fit in here, and that's why i like her. maybe 'cause she's like me. here.
we are sort of doomed, in this corner that is three barriers language, geography and history. yet that open space, that open space. that open space contains language that is images and touches, geography that is otherwise productivity, and history that is actually behind us.
she shuffles her feet across the station floor and looks at me like 'ah'. we are late. the adrenalin pumps our bodies around and against each other like bumper cars on that station floor and i drag her by the finger tips to our car, which is conveniently at the bottom of the stairs. in the seats and sweating. did you just nod your head and say nothing? ... there wasn't much to talk about in that hour after i finished work and before we went to dinner. not with desire around the place. better than a beer and cnn. did you have a nice day today honey?... the raspberries weren't mouldy and the wine was sour but we drank them together anyhow. curling postures and probing questions in our corner. how does a conversation flow? ... natural born sleepers, we make nampodong market by 4pm or so. eating flat noodle soup and rock rice in a poky second floor restaurant. rifling through piles of second hand clothes from japan that sit on tarpaulins on the street, i pull out a dress with a nice pattern on it for her. its worth the 3000 won and so she gets it and so we begin acting in our own memories. is it ok to be here with me? ... i am cooking for her. spinach lemon pepper tuna pasta. western style and its delicious in korean. overtired i push into unoccupied territories. these territories are meant to be inhabited later, i know i know. i am babo but thats all i am meant to know. when i will i start living that other half of my life? ... on the final morning i push the sleep out of my eyes and slide my torso down the misplaced sheet to meet her. capturing images all the time. its what we do. its what we have to do. i will develop them later.
