Hochzeit - Stone Fox Bride

Stone Fox Bride

The last time I saw you: Jimmy Fallon’s birthday party at the Gramercy Arts Club. October, 2005. He was an indie actor then, that guy from SNL. We stood in the bathroom line, comparing wrist tattoos. Mine said 'home'; yours said 'Mary'. Life had worn us down. I used to call my Mom crying because the light bulb had burnt out. You couldn’t keep a job. It had been years since we’d spoken. You looked like you were nine. You looked like you were ninety. There were cars crashing in your eyes. In four months you would die by suicide in your Dad’s garage. I would stand over your coffin on a cold day in March while your nine-year-old niece whispered "why why why". That why still wakes me up at night. In eighth grade we locked eyes at the locker bank. You looked like Bobby Brady. You would be my best friend forever. This is what I believed. Belief. So cruel, so sweet. In 1991 we saw Basic Instinct at the mall. Bobbi Brown did my makeup at Bloomingdales. Marky Mark signed my torn tee outside Tower Records. Ellen came out. You made me a ballgown from a bed sheet. Jerry’s last show, Soldier Field, July ‘95. We walked home at dawn singing sunshine daydream, eyes dazed, dilated. Me + You = BFF 4 LIFE. Having good friends is the whole of the Holy Life. We walked on ice in the middle of the night in New Hampshire. Drove through the Indiana Dunes in the Blazer blasting Ween and Queen and Cream. Bjork. Blonde Ambition. I swear Madonna looked us up and down on Rodeo Drive. Did I miss the cues when we were kids? When we were sitting on my stoop, and you said you felt old and ugly, that the future looked like a dragon and a demon and a dark exploded star? Sutra, suture, they come from the same root. To sew, to bind. Holy, holy, holy. Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds. But we grew up. We grew apart. And then you were gone. I picture you now, living in the mountains of Malibu, in a glass house over the ocean, married to a man with lines around his eyes. I picture you sitting at wooden table with a bowl of red apples. Happy birthday, Dennis. Today you turn 42. If only you'd kept walking through the black smoke. There was blue sky on the other side.

Quelle : https://www.instagram.com/p/bmgkmjzlknl

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