Experimental Prose, Breton Lalama
THAT SCENE IN WHICH WE’RE IN A DEPTHLESS SHAPELESS ROOM BUT IT HAS WALLS, IT
CERTAINLY HAS WALLS, AND I KEEP PARING MYSELF OPEN, EXPECTING YOU TO STEP
BACK, CRINGE, BE SICK, BUT INSTEAD YOU KEEP ADVANCING, DIP YOUR HAND INTO THE
HOLE, AND EAT.
your fingers pink, my insides kin to pomegranate seeds, to too ripe berries. you make a despot of
assumption and i become the sexy peasant sharpening blades that glint in sunlight’s lying eye. you
don’t see real me in this version, but the abstraction my silence whispers down the neck of your
vintage t-shirt. meanwhile real me is offering water to the green tomatoes under dawn’s bruised purple
eye, real me is standing barefoot in the frozen Atlantic trying to remember the history of sea glass,
real me is dripping candle wax across the colleras in some pagan heralding of sight, a ritual i learned
inside a dream. i dig my fingers into flesh to build the tunnel straight through my oesophagus, straight
through to starlight. keep going, onward, onward, onward and you will know when you’ve arrived.
and the way you’ll look, a fruit cut open, when you share the things you’ve seen- pit bared and holy.
breton lalama (he/they) is an internationally published writer and award-winning performer who is committed to enriching queer and trans representation in storytelling. their work has appeared in Breaking Bread Magazine, Harlot X, Whorticulturist, and In Plainspeak, among others. as a playwright: THE LAST SHOW ON EARTH! TRADEMARK SYMBOL (Groundswell 2021; featured in Playwrights Canada Press’ upcoming 2SLGBTQIA+ Monologue Anthology) and The Entire Hamlet (ATP Playwrights Unit); Tarragon Theatre’s incoming RBC Emerging Playwright in Residence. breton also really likes tomatoes. @bretonlikethecrackers