Natalee Cayton

Without Constance my voice would be muddled and insecure. I write endlessly grateful.



Variation XLV

All my lovers of love love junkies connoisseurs fiends addicts experts were there with me.


Whales die and sometimes wash ashore just a baby boy by my hand.

She holds her chin before her eyes but that’s not what’s keeping her still. Her broad hand raises
Defiant eyebrows and landscape eyes fall open on
I’ll keep this puddle in your hand for us.

The extra limb and yet another between a flop and a pull she wields gravity on an aggressively giving she she loves. To kiss a kiss. Necks arch and flank. All the earrings and a necklace have even more to press.

Be
Hold
Pockets for hands hands replace pockets and a neck to hold looking. Green brown and hazel eyes in a three hand hold out for a walk in the middle drives and minds beginning to be braided long from looking from coming from the back and around again.



Few remind me that hes and shes are more. We spoke about it among the rambling. Today such a one is with me reminding me of her and her and him self.

For soft clothing thank
god, it’s not that serious
but feels like it is.

While the bar empties itself without will or conscious control she cuts her nails.

Shes searching for the difference between drunk and miserable. She assumes the posture of someone grieving someone in an ordinary stage of losing it. For hours she lies with the ashtray on her stomach. She lets wine slowly run over lips of glasses. She turns her back to you and becomes silent with another you. There and not there faces fall to blankets her arms grasp while her ass lifts and back curls over and over.

She is where.
Live life to write life life is full of words and lose some leaves to stay alive. There’s a woman in that tree and an excerpt full of portraits. Tell me again and again. “I can feel how open you are,” she says.

Situated in the confines of I wish I could read this to him. His death just before the virus must mean something. Why can’t we share him and her and her?

Let’s pay the rich to watch us eat!

Let me be a place.

A place you want to be. A future place that satisfies our desire to do more now or the island nestled between the legs of a giant goddess in a manner or way that could not be better when some earth work has been done. How does it feel mid sweep? Ample far reaching spreading commanding at the same time I’ll learn how you are different so full of grateful.

Slow excitement.



Variation IVX, 2020
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Formscore (Rules for Variations), 2012
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Natalee Cayton
MFA ‘14
www.nataleecayton.com

© the artist