Michelle's Spell of the Day
Spider Bite
2 ounces vodka
1/2 ounce of Malibu coconut rum
1/2 triple sec
2 drops Angostura Bitters
Benedictions and Maledictions
Inside the Wax Museum
The House of Torture didn’t seem, well,
that frightening the second time through,
the wax figures, not at all real, except
for their eyes that followed you around
like your fears. You pass a man covered
in ants, one on a rack and you think
about all the things you wish you hadn’t
done, about all the hope people had for you.
Time changes everything except those old
fears that persist like love, only changing
their object, always returning you to yourself,
a place you understand, something that could scare
you no matter how many times you’d been there.
4 comments:
This is one of the few photos on your blog where you are not vamping/smiling/laughing. You do sadness well.
My old fears have turned into medical problems. My forgetfulness has turned into Adult ADD. I can justify poor performance this way, without truly accepting that maybe I'm not as good as I think I am. Or should be.
Re Madame Toosads Wax Museum: Scarey as a hollow weenie.
especially if images of Vincent Price come to mind...
the picture looks great. very sad... very good. like the post.
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